


I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison

by TunaDiamond



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Abbey Road, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Content, F/M, Linda McCartney - Freeform, Liverpool, London, Music, Oral Sex, Paul McCartney's sister, Queen - Freeform, Recording, Sgt Pepper, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teenagers, Teens, The Cavern Club, The Rolling Stones - Freeform, Vaginal Sex, explicit - Freeform, mature - Freeform, pattie boyd - Freeform, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 92
Words: 104,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunaDiamond/pseuds/TunaDiamond
Summary: The half-sister of Paul McCartney comes to Liverpool following the death of her mother, and meets the quiet, witty George Harrison, Paul's best friend.The two of them will face harsh words, other loves and the unstoppable wave of Beatlemania. Can they make it through?♬♩♪♩　　♩♪♩♬
Relationships: Cynthia Lennon/John Lennon, George Harrison & John Lennon & Paul McCartney & Ringo Starr, George Harrison/Original Character(s), John Lennon/Yoko Ono, Lennstarr - Relationship, McLennon - Relationship, Ringo Starr/Original Character(s), starrison - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Wattpad @tunadiamond  
> Follow me on Instagram @tuna.diamond

_**September 1942** _

As Myrtle Hopkins slaved away in the diner, she hummed her favourite song, which was never played on the jukebox by the door.

In her dainty little apron and short skirt with an updo of blonde hair and bright red lipstick smile, she was the very picture of a 1950s American diner waitress.

She wiped tables and mopped floors, served milkshakes and smiled all day until her face hurt. It was a never ending cycle, and one that she was just _begging_ for a way out of.

The day that she met him, it began like no other. She got up in her dingy little apartment with a mouldy ceiling and dim light which filtered in through the window. She washed with cold water to save money and then put on her outfit - unwashed - from the day before.

 _How much longer can I go on like this?_ She asked herself for the umpteenth time since she had first started working at the diner centuries ago - or that's what it felt like, anyway.

When she got to work, she was given a long list of things to clean and so she immediately set about doing it.

She was on her hands and knees scrubbing the black and white chequered floor when the bell hanging over the door rang. Myrtle didn't bother looking up at the approaching customer because this was in no way unusual. Instead, she continued slaving away, her joints already screaming for a hard-earned break.

"OUCH!" She exclaimed, sitting bolt upright immediately and waving her finger around like it was on fire.

She looked up at the man who had trodden on her finger. He looked kind, and undoubtedly hadn't _meant_ to step on her. He had obviously not been looking where he was going.

"Oh!" He said in a worried, apologetic tone as he bent over, "I'm so sorry, Miss." He had a British accent, but a strange one. Myrtle wondered where he was from. "Let me help you up from there -"

She wanted to tell him that she had a job to finish, but her finger was practically throbbing. For a few seconds, she wondered if she should go to the hospital to see if it was broken or sprained, but the second that the man put his arms around her and helped Myrtle to her feet, her mind was wiped clean and all she could think about was his intoxicating smell and how close she was to his lips.

He led her over to a spare booth in the window of the diner and sat her down on one side while he sat opposite. "My name's Jim," he said with a small smile, "McCartney, that is." He held out his hand on the table.

"Myrtle." She told him. "Myrtle Hopkins."

He offered her a kind smile before he said, "let me see that finger."  
She put her hand in his and felt a spark connect them - was that normal, she wondered?

"McCartney, eh?" She asked as he gently touched one of his fingers to her throbbing one. He nodded, humming in reply without looking up at her, "you're not from 'round here, are you?"

"Liverpool." Jim answered.

"I've heard of that place." Myrtle continued to talk, "is it nice there?"  
Jim didn't reply immediately because he was too busy looking at the girl's swelling finger.

After a few seconds, he answered, "it's... dirty..."

"Oh." She paused. "Why'd you leave?"  
"Work." Jim paused as he pushed her finger up so that it was hunched over. Myrtle winced and tried not to whine and let him know how much he had hurt her. He seemed like a decent guy, and the last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad.

"Are you staying in town?"

"Just for the night - it's back to Liverpool for little old me in the morning." Jim sighed as he looked over her finger some more. "I think it's only a bruised bone," he said after another ten seconds of examining her. "I'm really sorry about that -"  
"It's no problem." Myrtle assured him. "It'll be painful for a few days, but probably fine by Monday or Tuesday."  
"I feel awful."

"Myrtle!" Myrtle and Jim turned at the sound of her name being called in a sharp tone. It was her boss, Mr Landry, who had called her. He had his hands on his waist and was glaring at her from the entrance to the public payphone. "What're you doing!? _Get back to work_!"  
"She's hurt her finger, Sir." Jim said as he stood up from the table and went over to Mr Landry.

Myrtle wanted to tell Jim to sit down, but she kept her mouth closed - Landry scared her.

"Hurt her finger, you say?" Mr Landry asked when Jim reached him.

"Aye, Sir, that's right." Jim confirmed. "My fault entirely - it's bruised, so I don't think she'll be able to work anymore today -"

"But I _need_ my waitress."  
"Well she _needs_ to rest that finger." Jim said in an equally terse tone as that of what Mr Landry had just used to him.

"I won't pay her if she isn't working -"

"But she's _injured_ -"

"Through no fault of my own." Mr Landry looked back at Myrtle, who had been watching the entire thing with baited breath. "Get back to work -"

"Actually," Jim said in a calm, measured tone of voice, "Myrtle won't be able to work today - she's injured, and needs to rest her finger or it could get a lot worse." Jim turned to the waitress he had just met, "get your things, luv."

Something about the way he said it made her want to go with him and not resist him. She nodded, stood up and went to grab her bag and coat from the backroom.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	2. Chapter One

**_December 1942_ **

_Dear Jim,_

_I'm glad to hear that you made it back to Liverpool safely, and that you're missing New York... and me, apparently._

_I wish you could come and visit me again soon because I miss you - but I won't be so alone soon, you'll be glad to hear. In about six months, I'm going to be a mum, and you'll be a dad (again!) I don't want any money from you, if that's what you're wondering - Hell, you don't even have to ever visit the baby if you don't want to... but I want you to know that I intend to move on. I intend to find somebody who will love both me and the baby, and who will treat the baby as their own._

_And I won't tell the baby that you're its father until I have to, so don't worry about it coming to find you in the near future._

_If you want to see the baby, then that's fine too, but only if you're sure. I can't have you flitting into its life one minute and then not coming back for a year. You're either all in or all out._

_Don't reply to this letter, and I won't write again until the baby is born._

_Myrtle_

Jim looked at the paper in his hands and let out a deep sigh. His wife, Mary, came into the room with their six month old son, James Paul, in her arms. "Is something wrong?" She asked him sweetly.

Jim hesitated. He wanted to tell his wife of the woman that he had fallen in love with in New York, and the baby which was now coming. He wanted to tell his wife of how he wanted their son Paul, and the new baby, to know each other because they would technically be brother and sister...

But he didn't.

Instead, he put on a brave face, shook his head and held out his hands, "no," he replied in as level a tone as he could manage, "pass Paulie over."  
  
  


**_18th June 1943_ **

"She's so small." Kevin said in an adoring tone of voice as he looked at the baby girl in his arms.

His fiance, Myrtle, was crying.

"Why're you crying, Myr?" He asked her in a voice of genuine curiosity. "She's everything we ever wanted - she's everything we'll ever get."

Kevin knew that he couldn't have any children, so when he had found Myrtle, who had been pregnant and vulnerable and in need of somebody to love her and her baby, he had jumped at the chance.

Never had he imagined that he'd have the chance to be a father.

"She looks awful!" Myrtle weighed, breaking Kevin's heart. He didn't think that his little daughter was awful looking, but he also knew that Myrtle was under a lot of pressure and that she wouldn't be saying it if she hadn't just given birth. "She's got one eye open and she hasn't stopped squawking since she came out! She looks like a piece of red meat!"

She buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

Kevin patted her back as he held the baby with the other hand.

"She'll be a heart breaker when she grows up." Kevin promised. "My little Charlotte."  
  
  


**_20th June 1943_ **

_Dear Jim,_

_You have a daughter. Charlotte was born on 18th June, just two days ago, and weighed seven pounds and two ounces. My fiance, Kevin, is absolutely in love with her and has already submitted the papers to adopt her. I'm happy with this arrangement and I hope that you are, too. I won't write to you again until I'm ready to tell her, but I won't do so without your say-so._

_I wish you and your family the best for the future,_

_Myrtle_

She could think of no other way to end such a letter, but she was confident that it would do the trick. She didn't want Jim in her life - Myrtle was going to get married to Kevin Fisher at the courthouse just a week later, and she had a little baby girl that she knew she didn't want involved in the secrets which had surrounded her's and Jim's overnight relationship.

Things were better this way and she was sure of it.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	3. Chapter Two

_Seventeen long years later..._

**_1961_ **

**Charlotte's POV**

"When did you first start to realise it, Char?" My best friend, Joan, asked me.

I sighed, shrugging. "Maybe when I was about fifteen? I heard mum and dad having an argument one night, so I sat at the top of the stairs and listened. Mum was crying and screaming at dad, and then he said something about a man called Jim, and mentioned Liverpool."

"Liverpool?" Joan repeated in shock. I nodded. "Liverpool, New York?"

I shook my head, my blonde hair dancing in the bright light of the California sun. We'd moved to Cali when I was eight, and ever since then, I'd been in love with the place - though I didn't like the hot weather too much... I preferred it cold and damp. I preferred wearing long skirts to miniskirts, and I definitely didn't like -

"So how'd it happen, then?"

I knew she would ask this, so I opened my bag and pulled out the envelope with my letter inside, handing it to her. "It's from my brother, Paul."

"You have a brother?!"

Joan was an only child, and had always yearned for siblings.

"Two, apparently." I replied in a wry tone. "Paul - we share the same birthday, but he was born in 1942, a year before me... and then there's Mike, who was born in January 1944."

"Wow," Joan said as she took the letter from its envelope and opened it, "you're all close in age, then?"

I nodded. "Paul and Mike's mum must have been pregnant when Jim met my mum... it's kind of despicable to think that somebody would cheat on their pregnant wife, isn't it?"

"It's despicable to think that somebody would cheat on their wife at all."

"Well," I said in a reasonable tone, somehow slightly offended because she had indirectly insulted the man who had fathered me - the man who was a part of me - "I'm sure he had good reason to."

Joan just rolled her eyes at me, knowing that this wasn't her fight to win. She began to read the letter.

_"_ **_18th June 1961_ **

_Dear Charlotte,_

_Happy birthday! You don't know who I am, but we share the same birthday, apparently... and a parent. My dad, Jim McCartney, is your real dad. He fathered you in New York City and then left to come home to us in Liverpool, England._

_I'm sorry that that was really abrupt, but I just had no idea to phrase it. I don't know if you already knew about your dad and mine, but I was just told today... Apparently my dad thought it was time._

_So we're brother and sister, technically. My name's Paul and I was born 18th June 1942. You also have another little brother, our kid Mike, who was born 7th January 1944. We're all quite close in age which is nice, I suppose._

_Anyway, your mum told dad that she would write when she was ready to tell you, but it's my eighteenth birthday today, and I just knew that I couldn't hold the secret in. I nicked your New York address from dad's bedside drawer but then saw that on the back it had another address for California (which looked a lot newer!)_

_Wow, imagine living in California with that beautiful sunshine! I've always wanted to own a place in Tucson, Arizona. Don't ask me why._

_Right, dad's calling me for dinner now so I have to go... I'm sorry if I freaked you out with this letter, but I felt that you had a right to know, and that we have a right to know each other. I hope you want to get to know me._

_All my best,_

_Your brother Paul"_

By the end of the letter, Joan's jaw had dropped to the ground at our feet. She looked up at me and had to process her words for several seconds before she asked, "d-does your dad know about this?"

"He's in Liverpool." I said.

"Jim?"

"No." I replied, "Kevin."

" _Both_ of your dads are in Liverpool?" Joan asked in surprise.

"Kevin is there looking for a house for us to move into."

"You're moving _away_!?" Her eyes began to fill with tears.

I sighed. Joan could be _so_ over dramatic.

"I think it'd do me some good." I told her. "To live closer to my brothers, Paul and Mike, and to be away from here -"

Joan put a hand on my shoulder. "I know you think it would be better to leave here, but you'll miss it. You'll miss Cali, and me and your mum, and -"

"My mum is dead, Joan!" I yelled. "It doesn't matter _where_ I go, because she won't be coming with me!"

Joan flinched at my loud tone.

"D-did you put the idea into your dad's head?"

I laughed a high, unnatural laugh and then I glared at her.

"What makes you think I would do something like that?"

"Because you're sly and manipulative and you do anything and everything you can to get whatever it is that you want." Joan replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "And it's just the kind of thing that you'd do -"

" _Joan_." I put a hand on either of her shoulders so that we were looking into each other's eyes, "my _step_ dad is in Liverpool looking for a house by _coincidence_. I didn't even have the letter when he left. It came just a few days ago. He'll be back in a week and -"

"Are you going to tell him?"

I shook my head, absolutely sure that telling my dad that we were going to be moving to the same city as that of my biological father and his wife and two sons was not a good idea.

"We'll be gone in a few weeks, Joan." I told her, "he'll find out soon enough."

"It won't end well, Charlotte." She warned me in a low tone.

"It doesn't have to." I paused, "I heard some of the things that Kevin said to my mum in the years before she died - he called her horrible things, Joan. I don't know if I want to live the rest of my life being nice to a man who could call her such horrible names. If it ends badly, then I'll have Paul and Mike and Jim, and if it ends well then I'll hopefully have all four of them."

"And Jim has a wife," Joan reminded me, "maybe she'll be like another mother to you?"

I sighed. "Nobody could ever replace _my_ mother."

It had been nearly four months since she had wrapped our car around the tree at the bottom of our estate - I'd been in the car at the time.

"Of course not." Joan wiped her eyes and then hugged me, "best of luck to you, Charlotte Fisher-McCartney."

"If Jim gives me his blessing then I'd like to change it to Charlotte McCartney." I told her.

Joan gave me an encouraging smile. "Any man'd be lucky to have you as his daughter, Charlotte McCartney."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	4. Chapter Three

"Hi!" I exclaimed as I ran at him as soon as I saw him standing in the doorway.

He grinned as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "Hey, Lola."

I preferred to be nicknamed Lola. Charlotte was too long, and Char wasn't personal enough.

"Kevin, I missed you!" I pressed my lips to his soft cheek as I let go of him but kept our hands laced together as I led him into the dining room where I had laid out hot tea for the both of us - he'd called me from the airport so I'd know he was on the way home.

"And I missed you too, sweetheart." He sat down and poured us both a teacup full of steaming tea, adding plenty of sugar to the both of them. "How was it without me here?" He looked around the room, "it looks like you've kept everything spic and span -"

"I had a clean up today after school." I told him, "speaking of, today was the last day."

"I know... and how did it go?"

"Really really good." I replied with a smile. We drank our tea in silence for a minute or so before I said, "so how was Liverpool?"

I really wanted to ask if he'd somehow bumped into anybody called Jim, Paul or Mike McCartney, but I resisted.

My dad - Kevin - couldn't know that I knew he wasn't my biological father.

"Very dirty, and very cold and rainy." Dad - Kevin - paused. "Nothing like California, which is what makes it so appealing... I found us a lovely little house there. It's in a village called Woolton. 249 Menlove Avenue."

"So we're moving?" I asked, unable to contain my excitement.

"Monday." Kevin confirmed. "You should say goodbye to Joan and Harry -"

"Actually, Kevin," I said, catching him off guard because I had used his name, "Harry and I aren't a thing anymore... he, um... turns out that he liked Sharon Young a lot more than he liked me."

Kevin sighed and reached across the table, putting a hand on my arm which was resting close to the teapot. "I'm sorry, sweetheart."

I sighed and met Kevin's green eyes. "I'm not." I answered truthfully. "He was, um, pressuring me..."

"Oh..." Kevin blushed.

"Yeah," I said, feeling just as awkward as he probably was, "and I'm not ready to... y'know..."

"O-oh, yeah..." Kevin trailed off, "I know, I, um... I'm glad he won't be trying to stop you from moving."

"I wouldn't have let him, anyway." I said with conviction. "Liverpool means too much to me -"

"It does?" Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I replied, "it just... moving from here feels right."

Kevin nodded in agreement before he refilled his teacup. "Why'd you call me Kevin a few minutes ago?" He asked, "it's always 'dad' or 'daddy'... or it was before I went to England, anyway."

"I just think that I'm a little old to be calling my dad by that name... it has sexual meaning to it, right?"

Kevin blushed again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's fine." He stood up, "I'm going to start packing - you should, too."

I nodded, promising that I would do it.

I went up to my room, sat at my desk and got my pen and paper out with an envelope. I scribbled Paul's address onto the envelope and then began to write.

_**7th August 1961** _

_Dear Paul,_

_Kevin (that's the guy who pretended to be my dad for the last seventeen years) has found us a house in Liverpool! 249 Menlove Avenue will be my new home, so you should address all post to there because by the time you get this, we'll be living in the same city!_

_As soon as you get this, come and see me - unless it is before 8AM, then please come after that time because I won't be up to let you in, and Kevin will probably be at his new job at the Dockyard... he's going to be an accountant there, I think._

_I can't wait to meet my big brother!_

_All my love,_

_Charlotte_

I began to throw everything into the boxes which I'd had delivered over the last week. I didn't care whether it went in wrapped or looking neat. I just wanted to be out of California. Away from America. I wanted to be in the same room as my brothers, and in a completely new country.

I wanted a fresh start.

And I was going to get it.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	5. Chapter Four

As soon as we got off of the plane at Speke Airport, I was in love. Liverpool was everything that I had expected it to be and more - and so, so different to California. It was grey and noisy and everybody rushed around like they had somewhere important to be.

It seemed like Kevin and I were the only ones who didn't have an agenda. We just stood by the doors of the airport wordlessly, looking at each other.

"Are we walking to the house?" I asked, looking up at the sky as thunder roared and the rain began to fall heavily almost immediately, soaking me within a minute of standing it.

"That was the plan." Kevin replied, "but the weather doesn't seem agreeable... we'll have to get a taxi." Kevin left me standing with his suitcases while he went to find one for us, quickly returning with a black taxi cab driving along behind him.

I had never seen a cab like that, before.

"Get in, Lola." I nodded and left my suitcases in the rain. I got into the cab and inhaled the scent of tobacco and dirt - not an altogether pleasant combination, but one that I was sure I would remember forever because - other than the smell of the rain - it was the first that I had encountered in England. Kevin loaded our cases into the back of the taxi with help from the driver, and then got in beside me. "Menlove Avenue, please." Kevin told the driver as the man started the engine again and began to drive away from Speke Airport.

249 Menlove Avenue was a large house with a large drive and white paint covering the outside of it, barring the roof, which looked as though it was brown wood. I stared in awe at it, only half of my body out of the car.

"You like it?" Kevin asked me as he helped the driver to get our suitcases from the boot of the car, "I thought it'd be just your style."

"It is." I told him with a smile, for the first time since my mum had died seeing a bright future ahead. "It's perfect..."

"What's wrong, Lola?" Kevin asked, "you seem... different..."  
I sighed, "I'll tell you when we've got these cases inside the house."  
It was still raining, so I wanted to get into the shelter of our new home as soon as possible. Kevin nodded and we began to pull the cases towards the front door. He unlocked it, and then we pulled the cases over the threshold, leaving them all in the hallway while he showed me every room.

"And this'll be your one." He gestured to the already fully furnished and decorated bedroom - bright red walls and a lush brown shag carpet with mahogany furniture; a double bed in the middle of the room, a bedside cabinet on either side of it, a large desk in front of the window and a velvet cushioned chair to match, and an even bigger, deeper wardrobe than I had had in California, along with a matching chest of drawers at the end of my bed.

"This is... this is amazing, Kevin." I turned around and smiled at him, but when I saw the look on his face, I knew that he still wanted an answer to his earlier question.

"What's wrong, Charlotte?" He went to sit on the edge of my bed, patting the space between him for me to join him.

I sighed and sat down - but on the chair at the desk. I couldn't be close to him when I said this.

"What's wrong?"  
I took a deep breath, "I know about Jim McCartney... and I know that he's in Liverpool."  
"But how...?" Kevin asked me, "your mother swore that we wouldn't tell you until you were eighteen years old -"

"She didn't tell me... my brother, Paul, wrote to me. We've got the same birthday, but he's a year older - so he was told when he was eighteen, and then he wrote and told me."  
"But where did he get the address?"  
I went over to the bag which I had brought up the stairs with me - the same one that I had kept with me on the plane - and I pulled out Paul's letter. "I think he said that he found it in his dad's desk."

"Does he... I mean, do they live round here?" Kevin sounded heartbroken. If he hadn't lied to me for my whole life, then I might have felt sorry for him - he was about to lose his only child forever, and he knew it.  
I replied, "Forthlin Road. I don't know where it is, but this isn't like Cali, Kevin... you can get everywhere here on a bus -"

"And, are you going to go and find them?"  
I nodded immediately. "I have two brothers that I want to know, and a dad that I have to get to know. Mum once told me about a man she had fallen in love with, but who had left before they could be anything... I think she was talking about Jim. If mum was in love with him, then I want to at least get to _know_ him, because he must have been something special to hold her heart for all these years -" I cut myself off when I realised what I said. I had basically just told him that his entire relationship with my mother meant nothing, because Jim was the only man who had held her heart...

She had told me that years ago, and I had promised not to tell.

_"One day, Charlotte, you'll understand why I stay with your father..."_

And now I finally did.

"I-I... I'm sorry..." And I got up from the chair and ran from the room, and the house. As soon as I was out of the driveway, I hurried down the road, not knowing which way was right, but knowing that somehow I would make it to 20 Forthlin Road.

"Watch where yer goin'!" I looked up from the ground in surprise and saw that I had been about to walk smack into two boys. They were almost exactly the same height, both with brown eyes and the same sort of clothes on.

"I-I'm sorry..." I mumbled, not wanting any trouble. "I just, um..."  
"Are you crying, luv?" One of the boys asked. He had wide eyes and high cheekbones and looked to be the kindest.

"No, Paul," the boy who had spoken first said, "I think her eyes are leaking, is all -"

"Paul?" I echoed. The boy, Paul, nodded. I sniffled, wiping my tears away, "my brother's called Paul. You don't know him, do you?"  
"I might do." Paul replied kindly, "what's his name?"  
"McCartney."

The first boy threw his head back, laughing.

"Can it, would ye, John!?" Paul snapped at his friend as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him, turning us so that our backs were to John, the first boy, giving us the illusion of privacy. "Now, luv," Paul said in a soft, kindly tone, "I _am_ Paul McCartney... " he trailed off, thinking for a few seconds. I didn't dare disturb him. "You're Charlotte!?"

I nodded, glad that he had said it before I could have.

He pulled me into his arms immediately. John wasn't laughing anymore - instead, he had cocked his head to the side and was looking at the two of us, probably trying to work out whether or not I was lying, and whether or not Paul was being taken for a fool.

Paul turned us back around to face his friend. "John, this is my sister, Charlotte - remember I told you about her?"  
"She's having you on, son." John told his friend, my brother. "Your Charlotte's back in... California, ain't it?"  
"I sent you a letter a few days back telling you that we were moving to Liverpool." I explained, my tears gone because I had found the person who I was looking for, "I guess it hasn't arrived yet."  
"No," Paul replied, "letters from you take about a month to get back here to me."  
When Paul turned to look at me, I just beamed, unable to believe that I had found my brother - and that he was everything that I had expected him to be so far, and more.

"So why were you crying, then?" John asked as Paul took my hand in his and John led the way along the street, continuing onto my house.

"I had an argument with my, um, stepdad." I bit my lip, "well, he isn't, really... I don't like him at all because he used to say stuff to my mum -"  
"Is your mum here?" Paul asked, "I'd like to meet her -"  
"Paul, she, um... she died a few months back."  
John and Paul stopped.

They stared at me.

"My mum died, too." John said after a few seconds of silence between the three of us.

Paul hummed in reply. "And mine... I was fourteen."

"Paul, that's... that's horrible, I'm sorry -"

John looked uncomfortable.

He looked like he had a hard exterior and a soft, warm interior.

I suspected that talking about his mother made him upset, so I decided to change the conversation.

"So where are we going, then?"

"Well we were on the way back to mine." John stopped outside of a house. I looked up at it. "251... I live at 249!"  
John opened the front gate, "guess we're neighbours then, Charlotte."

Paul and I followed him into the back garden and through the back door, leading into a small outhouse and then a kitchen. There was a woman who looked to be in her fifties, and she was standing over a boiling pot of what smelled like soup.

"Mimi," he said, "this is Paul's sister, Charlotte."  
Mimi, the woman, turned and narrowed her eyes at Paul and I. Paul cleared his throat and let go of my hand, taking a few steps away from me.

"Charlotte's from America." Paul informed Mimi, "I'd never met her before today -"

"America?" Mimi breathed out in surprise and curiosity.

I nodded, "yes, ma'am." I answered, trying to be polite. "Born in New York and then onto California from there, ma'am."  
"Hmm..." Mimi hummed as she looked me over, going around me completely like I was an attraction. "Well, you look clean enough... unlike that one, over there." She jerked her head over to Paul. "And your clothes are...?"

"Dior and Givenchy most of the time, then plain old mum's the rest of the time."  
Mimi smiled. "Oh, I like this one, John... you can bring her round again."

Paul pretended to be annoyed, "you like my sister and not me, Mimi?"

Mimi chuckled. "You know very well why I detest your presence, Paul McCartney, and it's got something to do with Speke." She paused, "now, are the two of you staying for dinner?" She gestured to the soup.

I looked at Paul for permission, but he shook his head. "No, I think we're going to get back to mine - I want to introduce her to my dad."

"Her father?" Mimi asked as she began to get her and John's dinner out. Paul nodded. "I'd expect nothing less from the McCartneys." She sighed, "get her home safe, Paul."  
Paul nodded. "My life before my sister's." He promised as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders once more, and we both waved goodbye to John before hurrying out of 251 Menlove Avenue.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	6. Chapter Five

"Is she _always_ like that?"  
"Like what?" Paul asked as he led me away from John's house.

"So unpleasant."

Paul chuckled, "that's just her way... are you excited to meet dad?"  
I nodded, though hesitated briefly.

"Why'd you do that?" Paul asked.

I knew what he was referring to, of course. "I just... what if he doesn't _want_ to know me? What if he doesn't like the person I am, or how I've been brought up? What if -"

"What if I could tell you that all that is a load of bollocks right now?" My brother asked. "When dad told me about you and your mum, he most definitely didn't sound angry... he sounded sad... like he wanted to be with you both."

My heart skipped a beat. "P-Paul...?" He nodded, "how _did_ he tell you?"

_"Happy happy birthday to you!" Jim embraced his oldest child on his eighteenth birthday and grinned, unable to believe that his boy was getting so big._

_"Thanks, dad!" Paul exclaimed._

_"Paul..." Jim wondered how best to go about telling his son about his little sister, very quickly settling on the idea of just coming straight out with it - Jim had never been the kind to mince his words. "Today isn't just your birthday, son..."_ _  
_ _"I know," Paul replied, "I read once that you share your birthday with about nine million other people!"_

_"No, Paul," his dad said, "that's not what I'm saying..." Jim sighed, "I'm saying that you have a sister, and she has the same birthday as you. She was born a year later."_ _  
_ _Paul thought for a few seconds, mulling over what he had been told. "Y-you cheated on mum?"_ _  
_ _"No, Paul!" Jim said, though technically he had. "I fell in love with this woman, Myrtle, in New York in 1942, and, well... you know how these things work." He trailed off, remembering the conversation he had had to have with the same man that was in front of him when he was a boy of just eleven, "and then, in June, your sister was born."_ _  
_ _"H-have you ever met her?"_ _  
_ _"No," Jim replied. "I haven't, and I regret it... but her name is Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte, and God, Paul, I wish that I'd put the time in to get to know her - just to write to her, even... but she doesn't know. Myrtle wanted to keep it a secret and tell her when she was old enough - eighteen, probably."_ _  
_ _"How do you know?"_

_"I've been writing to Myrtle for years. I just wanted to check in on Charlotte, really."_

_"Have you seen a picture of her?"_

_"Just one." Jim reached into the back pocket of his trousers and brought out his wallet. He opened it and took out the picture of Mike and Paul. He turned it over, and on the back, there was a photo of a little girl in a swimming costume on the beach, a large seashell visible in her tiny hand. Paul took it from his dad and just stared at it for a few seconds before he reached out to stroke the photo, a tear running down his face._

_"I have to meet her..."_ _  
_ _"You will, son." Jim promised. "We both will - and Mike, too... but not until she comes to us first. We can't be the ones to tell her."_

_Jim took the photo back and pulled the two photographs apart, handing the one of Charlotte back to his son._

_"You can keep this. I think it's high time it got passed on."_

_Jim kissed the top of Paul's head and then left the room._

_Paul stared at the photo, an idea forming in his head almost as quickly as he could think._

_Charlotte McCartney._

"We're here." Paul stopped outside of a rather normal-looking, nondescript house. He turned to me, a supportive smile on his face. "He might be mad at me for writing to you, but -"  
"But it was for the best." I told him. I took a brief few seconds to embrace my brother. "Thank you, Paul."

I could _hear_ the smile in Paul's voice as he replied, "you're a'right, lar."

And then he took my hand once again and led me up to the front door. He opened it and led me inside, kicking his shoes off in the entry hall and gesturing for me to do the same.

"Dad?!" He called. He ducked his head into the living room to see if Jim was in there, but quickly came back out again. We looked in the 'music room', but Jim wasn't in there, either. I was fascinated to see the piano in the corner of the room because I had never had my own one - instead, it had been Kevin's, and I had not been allowed to touch it. Ever.

I had taken lessons as a young child, though, and I felt that I was quite accomplished at the instrument.

"Paul!?" I heard a voice call from upstairs, "is that you!?"  
"Dad's in his room." Paul informed me quietly before he led me up the stairs, still clutching onto my hand. The McCartneys' house was small, but homely and warm - it seemed different to John's house, somehow - and definitely different to my house in California, or indeed, Menlove Avenue. It just... it seemed more personal.

Paul stopped outside of a closed door and turned to me, letting go of my hand. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing in my chest as I took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm myself.

Paul smiled, hugging me once more. "You'll be fine." He promised me. "He's been dying to meet you, I promise."

Paul knocked on the closed door. "Paul?" The same voice from before asked, "is that you?"  
"Aye, dad." Paul replied, "can I come in?" When there came no reply, Paul turned to me, "wait here until I get you." I nodded and Paul opened the door a fraction, slipping inside.

I waited a few minutes, listening to the sound of Paul and Jim talking before there was a creak from a few feet away. I jumped, though managed to remain silent. I turned.

A young boy was standing there - well, he was about a year younger than me. He was almost a man.

"Are you Paul's new girlfriend?" The boy asked me. I shook my head, putting a finger to my lips to tell the boy to be quiet. He hurried over. "I'm Mike," he said in an exaggerated whisper. I giggled quietly. So this boy was my brother - that should have been obvious, really.

"I'm Charlotte." I replied to him in an equally quiet tone.

"The Charlotte from Paul's letter?" I nodded, wondering how he knew about the letter. Before I could ask, he said, "he had me post it."

I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Postman Mike."

"And you, Letter Girl." I giggled, putting my hand over my mouth to silence the sound... but then I heard the sound of oncoming footsteps, and the doorknob in front of me turned. I took a deep breath.

I was about to meet my dad.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	7. Chapter Six

**Paul's POV**

I went into dad's bedroom with my heart beating quickly. I could hardly imagine how he would react - his long lost daughter home at last - and right outside of his door, too.

"You okay?"

Dad nodded from his place in the bed, "just a cough, I think -"

He was interrupted with a large fit of coughing coming right from his chest. I winced because it sounded painful.

"Doesn't sound like it... I'll bring you some tea up in a few."

Dad nodded, "thanks... how was school?"  
"It was good." I sat on the end of the bed and looked at dad, "um, I have to tell you something."

"Is it a bad something?"

I bit my lip. "I don't know... I hope not... but you told me not to do it."  
Dad sighed. "Did you do it for the right reasons?"

I could answer that one easily. "Yes."  
"Then I won't be angry with you... but did it hurt anybody?"  
"No."

Dad nodded, "what is it?"

"Well..." I bit down on my lip some more, tasting metal in my mouth. "You told me not to contact Charlotte -"

" _Paul_..." Dad trailed off, putting a hand to his head. "You didn't tell her, did you?"  
"I had to, dad!" I exclaimed, though I didn't shout. "She didn't know, and she had to! We're family and once I knew about her, I felt that I had to write to her -"

"Does her mother know?"  
"Dad..." I sighed, thinking that Charlotte should be the one to tell him, but knowing that there was no way out of it for me, "Charlotte's mum died a few months ago..."  
Dad was silent, a sad look taking over his usually happy face.

"Oh."

"I'm sorry..." We sat in silence for a minute before I said, "I have to tell you something else."  
"I'm not sure how much I can take, Paul... to know that Charlotte knows -"  
"Charlotte's right outside, dad." I paused. "Her stepfather moved them to Liverpool, and I ran into her - she lives in the same road as John, they're practically next door neighbours -"  
"What a small world." My dad remarked in a wry tone, though he sounded as if he was pondering on the situation.

I hummed in reply. "She's right outside the door... and she'd really like to meet you. Would you like to meet her?"  
"M-meet her?" I nodded. "Of course I would, Paul! She's my daughter! Let her in!"  
I nodded, beaming, and stood up to go and opened the bedroom door.

Charlotte and Mike were standing in the hallway facing each other. When I opened the bedroom door, they both turned to look at me, though Charlotte's eyes were immediately drawn to something over my shoulder. I know that she had seen dad in the bed behind me.

"Charlotte -"

"Paul, as my brother, I think you can call me Lola..." she paused, "actually, better make it Lo - my stepdad calls me Lola, and I hate him."  
I nodded, smiling as I started my sentence again, "Lo, dad's ready for you."

"Who's she, Paul?" Mike asked as I stepped aside to let Lo into the room.

"I'll tell you later." I promised him before I closed the bedroom door so that it was just the three of us.

**Charlotte's POV**

I went further into the room, Paul taking his hand in mine as soon as he had closed the bedroom door behind me. I turned my head to him and he gave me a supportive, encouraging smile before leading me over to the bed where my father - _our_ father - was.

It seemed too weird to think of that.

That I shared a parent with somebody else... two somebodies, actually.

I smiled at Jim. "Hello..."

Jim tapped the space beside him and Paul gestured for me to go. I did. Jim said, "hello... you're Charlotte?"

I smiled again, "in the flesh... am I everything that you expected me to be?"

Jim blushed as he replied, "you're everything and more. You're perfect, my dear. You have my hair but your mother's eyes, just as I always knew you would."

Paul and Mike and Jim all had brown eyes - and Paul's were the largest, but my eyes weren't.

My eyes were a clear, crystal blue.

Just like my mother's had been.

"Thank you."

"I was sorry to hear of her passing."

"Y-you knew...?" I asked in surprise.

"Paul told me just a few minutes ago. She was a lovely woman. I have a few photos of her, and I'd -" a cough overtook him. I winced because it sounded painful to him to cough so much. When he had stopped coughing, he continued, "I'd like to show you them one day."

"I'd like that."

Jim looked at me again, this time as if he was seeing me properly. "Gosh," he said, "you really do look like Myrtle." My eyes teared up at that. "Oh!" Jim exclaimed, wrapping his arms around me, which surprised me - I hadn't expected him to want to do such fatherly things with me this early on in our meeting, "you sweet girl, you must miss her sorely."

"I do." I told him, wiping some tears from my face. Paul left the room momentarily, and I heard him going downstairs. He came back up a minute later with some toilet roll in his hand. He closed the bedroom door once more and handed it to me. "Thanks, Paul." I said as I wiped my eyes.

"So you already met our Paul then, did you?" Jim asked, his arms still tightly around me.

I nodded. "Less than an hour after getting off of the plane and I met my brother."

"Have you met Mike yet?" I nodded again.

"In the hall, but he doesn't know that I'm..."

"Mike!" Jim called, leaning away from my ear so he wouldn't deafen me. The younger McCartney brother came running into the room. He saw me in Jim's arms and confusion appeared on his face.

"Letter girl."

"Postman Mike." I replied with a giggle.

"Mike," Jim said, "this is Charlotte."

"We met, dad."

"I haven't been completely honest with you, Mike, because I didn't think that this day would come so soon..." Jim trailed off, removing his arms from around me and gesturing for Paul and Mike to sit on the bed. Paul slid onto the bed beside me, and Mike sat at Jim's feet, albeit they were covered by the blanket. "Charlotte's mother was an American woman who I met while I was in New York for work. We, um..." he blushed, looking at me, "we spent some time together there, and nine months afterwards, Charlotte came along -"

"Charlotte's our sister?" Mike looked at me in awe.

I nodded and smiled. "That's gear!" He jumped up, "I always wanted a sister - but a younger one would have been nicer!"

Paul, Jim and I laughed. "Next time, I'll bear that in mind, son!" Jim teased.

The four of us laughed together and it felt good... it felt _normal_...

"Will you stay for dinner?" Jim asked me, turning his head to look at me.

I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, my brother Paul said, "o'course she will, won't ye, Lo?"

I looked at him and smiled, nodding.

"O'course." I replied.

"You're welcome anytime." Jim told me, wrapping his arms around me again, "morning, noon or night. Don't need to knock, luv, just come through the front -"

"Thanks..." I trailed off, not knowing what to call my own father.

"Whatever you're comfortable with." Jim said into my ear, but loud enough for the two boys to hear.

I looked at Paul. I was the most comfortable with him.

Paul nodded encouragingly.

"Thanks, _dad_...?"

"How long I've waited to hear you say that, Lo." Jim said as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	8. Chapter Seven

For dinner that night, Jim suggested that we celebrate my 'homecoming', as he called it, by eating from the chip shop at the bottom of the road -

Paul and Mike referred to it as 'the chippy'.

I'd never had fish and chips from a fish-and-chip shop before, so Paul insisted that I join him on the walk to get our food for the full experience. I was more than happy to go along with him, of course. I adored Paul already.

"So how're you liking Liddypool so far, then?" My brother asked as we left the warmth of 20 Forthlin Road and began to walk to the chippy.

"I love it," I told him. "The weather's a lot more agreeable than California. I didn't like the sun so much - the rain's more my thing -"  
"Well there's plenty of it." Paul promised with a grin. "Met anyone you like, yet?"  
"Well I like you." I teased him, knowing full-well what he was hinting at.

"O'course you do." He tickled my sides and I giggled, trying to wriggle away from him, "but y'know what I meant... John's single, by the way -"  
"As if." I laughed. "John's not my type."  
"Then who is?"  
I looked at him curiously. "No one yet, Paul. Why the interest?"  
He shrugged, "I like to know everything."  
We walked the rest of the way in silence, though it wasn't very far. Paul walked me over to the counter and asked me what I wanted, but I wasn't sure so I just shrugged, "whatever you're having."

"Okay," Paul said to the man behind the counter, "four portions of cod and chips, then, Ian..."

Ian, the man behind the counter, nodded and barked the order to the two men standing behind him. He then looked at me, "who's this then, Paul?" He asked, "new girlfriend?"  
"My sister." Paul replied casually. "Charlotte - fresh over from America."

I smiled and gave a slightly awkward wave.

"Didn't know you had a sister." 

We turned at the sound of a new voice. Paul's eyes brightened immediately. "Geo!" He exclaimed, "I didn't know you were coming here for tea -"  
"Mum sent me." The boy replied. He looked about Mike's age, maybe a little older - but he didn't look as old as Paul. The boy looked at me, his deep brown eyes shining as they swept over me, taking my full appearance in. "This 'er?"  
Paul nodded proudly, "Charlotte, meet my friend, George Harrison."

"Hello, George." It felt easier to be nicer to George than it had Ian.

"Your eyes are a lot prettier than Macca's." George threw a glance to Paul and I giggled.

"She's got her mother's eyes." Paul told his friend.

George nodded and then excused himself briefly to tell his order to Ian, before he turned back to us. "You didn't tell me you had a sister."  
"I didn't think you'd be meeting her so soon - she's only just got to Pool today." My brother replied.

"I lived in California." I added. George glanced back at me and smirked.

" _O'course_ you did."  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I crossed my arms against my chest. George's eyes never left mine, and that made me like him more instantly. When I crossed my arms, my breasts were pushed up, and they usually drew the attention of whatever male I was talking to... but George didn't even glance down momentarily.

"Your skin," he replied.

"What about it?"  
"It _glows_."

Paul choked and I turned to him, immediately jumping into action and clapping his back to dislodge whatever was stuck in his throat.

"Jesus Christ, woman!" Paul exclaimed as a half-chewed chip came flying out of his mouth and landed on the floor by the door. "Wha'd you do that for!?"  
"You were choking!" I exclaimed.

George was chuckling, watching with an amused look on his handsome face.

"Good job I didn't bring up a lung the way you just whacked me, Lo!" 

George was now practically rolling around the floor laughing. Paul and I looked at him, and then joined in. It was actually quite funny - Paul had just failed to see the immediate humour in the situation.

"Well," Paul said when we had all recovered, "I think we'd best be going..."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." George said as he moved closer to the counter.

"Diner at eight-thirty." Paul agreed as he took my hand in his free one since he was holding the chips in his other.

George nodded, "goodnight, Charlotte."

I blushed at his intense gaze as it followed me out of the shop. "Night, George."

"Do you need to ring your stepdad and tell him where you are?" Paul asked as we walked back to the McCartney residence.

I snorted, "fuck him." I replied. "I never want to go back there again. I just needed him to get me to Liverpool... to you..."  
Paul smiled and pulled me under his arm, wrapping it around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him.

"Glad he did," Paul replied, "I didn't know how much I was missing a sister until now."

I giggled, "you've gone soft, Paul."  
"Here for less than a day and already picking up the slang, are we?" He teased.

I elbowed him playfully in the side and we both laughed. When we recovered ourselves, Paul said, "George looked at you, y'know."

"Would have been rude if he didn't," I said, humming in reply.

"No," Paul answered, "I mean that I've never seen him look at a _girl_ like that before..."

I blushed. "Oh..."

"You're blushing."  
"I am not!" I cried, though I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks and making my skin hot.

"You like George!" I elbowed him again.

"If this is what I have to put up with to have you as my brother, then I'm not sure it's worth it!" I teased him.

Paul chuckled, "o'course it's worth it, Lo. You're the luckiest girl in Liddypool!"

"To have a brother?"

"To have _me_ as a brother." He smirked, "all the girls think I'm good looking!"  
"I don't see what your good looks have to do with being _my_ brother -"  
"Genes, Lo." He tapped the side of his nose with the the hand which was joined with my own. "I've got good genes, and so have you. Lucky us." We'd reached the house. He led me inside.

Jim and Mike were waiting for us in the kitchen when we got in.

"It's getting late," Jim said, "after dinner, Lo, Paul'll walk you home." I nodded, not wanting to leave ever again, but knowing that I had to. "But come back anytime, just like I said." He smiled and we sat down to dinner.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	9. Chapter Eight

We walked the route that he usually did with John. "Lo," Paul said as we reached the top of Menlove Avenue. I turned to look at him, waiting for him to continue. "I'm meant to be meeting Geo and John tomorrow mornin'... do you want to come?"

I nodded eagerly. "I want to meet John and George properly!"  
Paul smiled and we reached my house.

"This is where you live?" Paul asked in disbelief, looking up at the large house.

It was bigger than any other house on the street, and wasn't even attached like most of the houses in Menlove Avenue were. Even John's house was semi-detached.

I nodded, biting my lip. "Nice, huh?"

"How does your stepdad even afford this?" Paul asked, letting me lead him up the driveway by holding his hand. "Must cost him an arm 'n' a leg in rent -"  
"He bought it after the house in Cali was sold." I replied, pulling the door handle down so that it swung open.

"Wow. Houses in America must be worth an awful lot, then -"  
"Don't worry about how much money this is worth," I told him, letting go of his hand and stepping over the threshold and turning to look at him, able to see him in the lights of the hallway which was already on.

"Right..." Paul trailed off, "well, I'll pop over to John's now and tell him to grab you on his way past tomorrow." Paul paused, biting his plump bottom lip for a few seconds before he continued, "about eight, expect 'im - but he's always a bit late, so maybe quarter past."

I smiled, "thanks..." I pulled him into my arms, "I don't ever want to be without again, Paul." I said as I kept our bodies together, "you're my brother, and my only family besides Mike and Jim - I mean, uh, dad."

I let go of Paul and blushed. Paul chuckled, "you don't have to call him dad, y'know, Lo. He's fine with whatever you want to call him... as long as it isn't cheeky!"  
I giggled. "I want to call him dad." I told Paul. "He is, isn't he?" Paul nodded, "then he deserves to be called it."  
Paul smiled and leaned over to me, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. "Us Maccas got to stick together, Lo," he replied, "you'll always have me, ye daft bird. Night." He gave me a small wave before he turned and walked back down the long driveway, very quickly disappearing out of my sight as he turned the corner and went behind the seven foot wall of 251 Menlove Avenue.

I turned and went further into the house, closing the door behind me.

I went into the living room, and was surprised to see Kevin sitting in an armchair with a lamp on behind him as he read a book.

"You're a bit late home, Lola." He said, peering at me from over the top of his glasses.

"I met my brothers." I told him, "and my dad." He winced when I used that word. "And then we had cod and chips from the chippy for tea -"

"Less than a day here and you're already talking like them..." Kevin sighed, shaking his head in disdain and disbelief.

"They're my family," I replied, "and we live in Liverpool, now, so I should try to fit in. Paul is everything I ever wanted in a brother. I don't ever want to be away from him or Mike again."

"And Jim?" Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"He's..." I stood up from the settee where I had taken a seat, "he's none of your business." I turned to go upstairs, but stopped myself. I still had some more that I wanted to get off of my chest. "Kevin, I remember how you used to speak to mum, and quite honestly, I can't forgive you for it. thinking about it makes me sick... i'm sorry, but you're not my dad - not even my stepdad. Jim is. You're an abusive husband and a man who has care of a teenager - but not for long. As soon as I'm eighteen, I'm out."

Kevin snorted. "If that's how it is -"  
"It is." I crossed my arms against my chest.

"Then you can expect to be treated like that. Not as my daughter, but as a boarder." He paused, "now, get to bed... brat."

With a huff, I turned on my heels and went upstairs, unable to be bothered by what Kevin had said because I could think of only one thing... Paul.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	10. Chapter Nine

The next morning, I was awoken from my deep sleep by the incessant sound of knocking echoing throughout the house. With a groan, I opened my eyelids and threw the duvet off of my legs, going to the back of my bedroom door and putting my lavender silk kimono over the top of my revealing night gown. I went downstairs and stopped halfway to yawn before I continued.

The knocking hadn't stopped.

I opened the door, wincing at the harsh morning sunlight which poured into the hallway around the figure who was standing in the doorway.

"John!?" I gasped.

"You're not even dressed yet, Charlotte!" John said, rolling his eyes, "we're going to be late -"  
"Late...?" I trailed off, trying to remember what we were going to be late for, but then I gasped. "Oh my God! He didn't get me up!" I grabbed John's arm and pulled him into the house, slamming the front door behind him. "Give me twenty minutes!" I exclaimed before hurrying upstairs to throw some clothes on and get ready for the day.

I went over to my wardrobe, grateful that I had unpacked the night before. I thumbed through it quickly and sighed. All of my clothes were made to be worn in warm weather, so none of them were a good idea for Liverpool... nevertheless, I picked out a black one with a white bow and white peter-pan type collar. I turned around at the sound of the floorboards behind me creaking and jumped.

"John!" I exclaimed, "you scared me!"  
"Good morning to you, too." He smirked, watching me walk from the wardrobe and over to him.

"Your greeting is a little late," I pointed out. I held up the hanger with the dress on it, "what do you think?"  
He looked at it for less than a second before he replied, "looks nice. You should wear it with a pair of fishies, though -"

"Fishies?" I echoed in confusion.

He sighed, "I forget you don't know what everything is, yet... fishnet stockings, o'course."  
"Oh!" I exclaimed. "That makes sense, I suppose. I have some in my drawer." I went over to get them, purposely getting out some sets of lingerie and lying them on the bed. I could feel John's gaze on my back as I did that, making a show for him. "Which do you think would go best with the dress?"  
I turned to him, crossing my arms against my chest so that my breasts were pushed up.

John said, "I've got a girlfriend, y'know." He sounded amused.

"I bet that's never stopped you before."

John chuckled and came further into the room, "I reckon you're right..." he looked at the lingerie, "the black, obviously." He gestured to the black lace set before he reached for the panties, holding them up. He eyed them, "do I get them off you at the end of the day?"

I laughed, taking them from him. "You wish." I replied. "You'll have to work a little bit harder to get there with me."  
"You're a tease!" John whined.

I smirked. "That's what the boys like." I paused, "now sit down and shut up so I can get dressed."  
"You're going to let me _watch_?" John asked in disbelief, immediately sitting down on one side of my bed like an obedient child.

I laughed again, " _as if_!" He whined again, falling backwards onto the bed with a groan, pretending to be in pain. I smiled, sitting down beside him, "if you're good then I'll let you feel me up."

"Really!?" He sat bolt upright.

I giggled again. Why was this boy so _gullible_?

"Of course not," I replied in a tone that implied my answer should have been obvious, "unless you're paying for breakfast?"  
John laughed, "no bird is worth paying for brekkie from _that_ place!"  
I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder, "I think you and I are going to get along just fine, John... what's your surname?"  
"John Lennon."

"John Lennon and Charlotte McCartney, best friends..." I trailed off, "sounds like something my friend Joan would love!" I paused, "John, remind me to write to her."  
"Is she in Cali?" I nodded. "Is she fit?" I nodded again, humming. "Is she as fit as you?"  
"Now that," I said, "is the million dollar question."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	11. Chapter Ten

As soon as John and I walked into the diner, side-by-side, a smile appeared on Paul's face and it lit up the room. He stood up in greeting, crossing the diner to meet us halfway. George, who had been sitting opposite Paul at the table. He smiled at the sight of John and I, though he didn't get up to come and meet us as my brother had done.

"You look nice," Paul told me with a smile as he brought me into his arms.

"Thank you," I replied. "John picked this one - I haven't really got anything for the English weather, so -"

Paul reached into his pocket and brought out £3. I wasn't completely familiar with English money and its worth yet, but I knew that was a lot of money - a week's pay, even.

He led us back to the table. "Dad told me to give this to you -"  
"I can't take that!" I told him. He slid into the seat beside me and John sat opposite him, next to George, who smiled in greeting at me.

"Said it's the least he can do, Lo." Paul answered quietly, leaning closer to me as if he didn't want the others to hear.

I wondered if they knew of the exact situation between Jim and myself.

"It's a week's pay at least!" I exclaimed, pushing his hand back towards his body, trying to show how much I didn't want to take Jim's money from him.

"Eh!" John exclaimed, gesturing for the waitress to come over. She sighed visibly and grabbed her notepad, coming over somewhat reluctantly. "I'll have a -"  
"Tea and bacon sarnie." The waitress interrupted, reading from her notepad.

"Geo and I a'ready ordered for everyone." Paul explained before he turned back to me, "just take it. Even if you don't spend it, just take it because it'll make dad happy."  
I wanted to make Jim happy. I sighed and took the money from him, quickly putting it into the purse which I had brought with me.

"If you don't want it, then I'll take it quite 'appily!" John exclaimed as the same waitress put a mug of tea down in front of him and then one in front of George. She went back to get two more, putting one in front of me and one in front of Paul.

"Nice try, Lennon." Paul replied with an amused, lopsided grin. "This money's for the lost McCartney, as our Mike calls her."

I sighed but smiled, amused by my brothers.

The waitress put the plates down in front of us before going back for the rest. She asked if we wanted anything else and waited for us to reply with a "no" before she left.

We all dug in, talking quite comfortably as we ate.

"You coming to the Cavern for lunch?" George asked around a mouthful of egg and beans.

"The Cavern?" I echoed, "what's that?"  
"It's a club that we play at." John explained, sipping from his mug of steaming tea.

"You play?"

The three boys nodded. "Guitar and lead singer," John replied.

"Guitar and backing vocals... and the occasional Little Richard song -" I cut Paul off.

"I love Little Richard!" I clapped my hands together happily and George smiled at my reaction, his eyes seemingly lighting up at it.

I blushed when I locked eyes with him and lowered my hands, picking up my fork once more and going back to eating my breakfast.

"And George does lead guitar, and sings occasionally with me, don't you, Geo?" Paul looked at the boy sitting opposite me.

George looked embarrassed, so he replied quietly, "yeah..." before he went back to his food.

"Are you any good?"  
"Any good?" John laughed. "Ha! Any fucking good, Ms Macca?!"

I giggled at the name, and Paul chuckled. George just looked amused. He didn't say much, obviously the quiet one of the group.

"We're so fucking good that we've been offered a tour!" John finished his bacon sandwich and tea, so gestured to the waitress for another cup.

I pushed mine across the table to him and he looked at me in surprise.

I shrugged, "not a big fan of tea -" The three boys gasped. "I'm not really a big fan of hot drinks in general. I much prefer a nice, cold glass of milk."

"Milk over 'ere, Phil!" Paul called over to the waitress. I assumed that her name wasn't just Phil, but that it was just an abbreviation or a nickname. She nodded and set about fulfilling the order.

"I'm goin' out fer a bit of fresh air." Paul turned to me, "you be okay here with Geo and John?" I nodded and Paul smiled, "try not to let them scare you." He teased before he stood up and left the diner.

John smirked at me and looked between George and I before he said, "I'm goin' for a piss." And he left, going to the back of the diner.

I turned to George now that we were alone.

"Looks like it's just me and you now, George."

"Lucky me." 

I blushed at his reply because he sounded sincere... interested, even.

I hummed in reply, "so, um, how long have you been playing guitar?"

"Since about '56, so what's that? Um, five years?" I nodded, quickly doing the maths in my head. "I was thirteen, and I used to practice until my fingers bled -" I winced and he chuckled, "but that's what got me here today... we were in Hamburg until last month, and we recorded our first ever record there... well, we were the backing band on one, anyway."

"That's really cool, Geo!" I enthused. George blushed, looking down at his empty plate. "I bet you sound great!"  
"Well," he said in a slightly lower tone, raising his gaze to meet mine. I inhaled sharply, subconsciously holding my breath. "Come to the lunchtime show at the Cavern and find out."

Was he _flirting_ with me?

I giggled, putting my hand over my mouth. "I just might... will there be people to dance with?" I asked, "I love to dance!"  
"I like dancing, too." George replied with a small smile, his top lip curling up and a pair of fangs becoming visible.

A shiver ran through me.

 _Fangs_.

My mind very quickly began to wonder what those fans could do to me...

What was _wrong_ with me? Imagining this boy's teeth in my neck... it wasn't like me.

Though now I had conjured the image in my mind, it was difficult to shake.

"You'll have to dance with me, then." I replied. "We'll see who's better."  
"You'll win." George said, already blushing.

"Why's that?"  
"Because nobody on that dance floor is going to look 'alf as beautiful as you -"  
I blushed profusely and opened my mouth to reply, but my older brother reappeared, retaking his seat beside me.

"Oh," he said with a frown, "no John? Where'd he get off to?"

"The loo." I replied, "but that was a while ago -"

At that, the toilet door opened, and two people stumbled out. A girl no older than me, and John.

" _Oh_." I pointed to the two people. George and Paul followed my finger and smirked.

"He does that a lot."

"Is that his girlfriend?" I asked them.

Paul sighed. "No."

"His girlfriend's blonde, and really nice." George told me, "she'll probably be at the show. Her name is Cynthia."

"So who's that, then?" I asked quickly as John approached our table again, zipping up the fly of his trousers as he crossed the diner.

Paul shrugged. "Dunno, but DO NOT mention it to Cyn. Okay?"  
I nodded. "Sure. Sure, of course."

John sat back down. "Let's get going, then."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	12. Chapter Eleven

"Wow." I said as I walked down the stone steps and into 'the Cavern Club'. It was amazing. A big, domed brick ceiling with stone pillars holding it up, each side being made into a sort of off-room because of the pillars separating it from the dance floor. There was a bar in one corner and a stage at the very front of the dance floor.

"Come 'ead." Paul said from in front of me, waving me forehead. George was behind me, but Paul and John were taking the way.

"Want me to take your coat?" I turned to George and smiled at him, barely visible in the dim light of the Cavern despite it not being lunchtime yet.

I replied, "thank you, Geo, that'd be really nice." I shrugged it off and handed it to him, "where do I get it back?"  
"From the cloakroom." He gestured to a hole-in-the-wall with a young girl in there. She smiled at him.

"Hi, George!" She quipped with an excited smile. She was probably two years younger than me.

"Cilla." He dipped his head at her in greeting and then fed my coat through the opening. "Look after this for our Lo, would you?"  
"Lo?" Cilla, the girl, raised an eyebrow. George gestured to me.

"Paul's sister from America." George replied, "you'll be seeing her around a lot, a'right?"

Cilla smiled and gave me a small wave in greeting, though it looked like she wasn't very happy about my presence. Perhaps _she_ liked George.

"Lo! Come meet Pete!" George and I hurried away from Cilla in the Cavern's cloakroom and over to Paul who was on the stage, John beside him and a boy who I hadn't yet met behind him on the drums. George went onto the stage and then offered me a hand, pulling me up beside him. Paul and John watched with amused faces. "Lo," Paul said, "this is Pete Best, our drummer."  
I turned to the drummer and smiled. He was very good looking, and he had a nice smile, which I only noticed when he smiled at me in greeting.

"The elusive Charlotte McCartney." Pete replied, standing up from behind the kit and offering out a hand. I laughed and took it.

"I guess so." I replied. "My reputation proceeds me."

"No, just the name." Pete grinned and I instantly liked him. He seemed like a kind, down-to-Earth guy - exactly _my_ kind of guy.

**Paul's POV**

As Charlotte talked to Pete and smiled at him, I watched George's face twist with jealousy. I groaned quietly.

My best friend was falling for my sister.

John shot me a look and I sighed. He gestured with a shake of his head towards the toilets and I nodded, following him.

Once we were alone, he turned to me. "Is George...?"

I nodded, "it can't be good."  
John hummed in agreement. "Reckon it'd make for some good sport, though. She's sweet on Pete from the looks o' things -"  
"I'm sure she's just being friendly." I was trying to deny the obvious, somehow feeling protective over Charlotte as if John had just come right out with it and called her a tart like the ones we were used to in Hamburg.

The door to the bathroom opened and George came in with his hair dishevelled like he'd been running his hands through it, and a moody look on his face.

John just looked amused. "Everything a'right, son?" 

George looked at him for a few seconds before he groaned. "Pete..."  
"Stole your girl, did 'e?" John jeered. George shot him a menacing, annoyed look and John was quiet.

"Paul," George turned to me with a desperate, pleading look on his face. The expression made him look older, somehow. I made a mental note to tell him to use it next time we were on stage somewhere where he was underage, like he had been in Hamburg. "Can't you _do_ something?"

"About my sister liking another guy?"  
John hummed in amusement, smirking as he looked between George and I. I looked at John momentarily, silently begging for help with the situation. John just shrugged.

Useless fucker.

"Do we know if she _actually_ likes him?"

"Did you see the way she was looking at him?" George put his head in his hands. "Paul, I really like 'er and this isn't going to end the way I want it to -"  
I sighed, moving away from John's side and putting a supportive hand on George's back. "Look," I said, "it's not really my place to do it, but I'll ask her how she feels about you and then let you know, okay?"  
George's face lit up.

"Really?" He sounded surprised. Maybe he hadn't expected me to fix it.

Maybe I shouldn't get involved.

It was too late to pull out now, though.

"O'course he will." John interrupted before I had a chance to answer, "and while he's doing that, I'll move in on Dot and have them both!" He threw back his head and laughed maniacally.

I sighed again, "come on, Geo. Birds'll be 'ere soon and we haven't got in a lick o' practice..." we went to leave the bathroom, but I stopped once more. George did the same, and John stopped behind us. "Just do your best to get her away from Pete, a'right?" He nodded, "I don't like him much, either."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Charlotte's POV**

"I am _so_ sorry that I am late!" A blonde girl exclaimed as she settled herself in John's lap. She looked at me immediately, sitting between Paul and George, sitting closer to George than I was to my own brother. Her mouth fell open. "Are you... are you the sister?"

I sat back, shocked that she even had a clue as to who I was. I nodded, "Charlotte." I held out a hand to her and she took it, smiling.

"Cynthia." The girl replied. "John's girlfriend."

She looked at her boyfriend, but he was silent... and he didn't meet her gaze. I got the impression that she might be his 'girlfriend', but she wasn't his _only_ girl-friend.

"Right, boys," the owner of the Cavern Club said as he hurried over to the table, "instruments are on stage. Give 'em a show and leave 'em wanting more." Paul kissed his girlfriend, Dot, as she had introduced herself, goodbye and John did the same with Cynthia. Pete got up and left straight away and George turned to me.

My heart thumped in my chest.

Had he turned around to _kiss_ me...?

"I'll, um," George blushed, "I'll be going now..."

I smiled, "knock 'em dead, Geo." He beamed. "I know you'll be great." I finished, leaning a little closer to his ear so that only he could hear me. Daringly, I pecked his cheek and then sat back upright, hoping that John and Paul hadn't noticed me kiss him. I wondered if he was blushing, and hated the dim light in the club because I had no way of knowing.

Paul turned to me, "Dot and Cyn are going to stay with you tonight, okay?" I nodded. He smiled and placed a soft kiss in the middle of my forehead, placing a hand on either of my shoulders and smiling even more widely. "Tell me how we do, okay? Honest opinions only!" And then he turned and darted off after John and George and Pete in the direction of the stage.

The three of us pushed our way to the front of the crowd just as George slipped his guitar strap over his head and strummed it, making sure it was in tune. John and Paul stepped up to their microphones. John cleared his throat, "'ello, everyone." He said, putting on the thickest Liverpool accent that I had ever imagined - he didn't sound like that when he was off stage. "I'm John, this is Paul and George," he jerked his head to his right. George smiled and gave a little wave to the audience, his gaze sweeping across the sea of the lunchtime crowd before they settled on me.

Paul then spoke into his microphone, "and that lad behind us is Pete Best." There were a few squeals and screams from the audience. A few girls even called out Pete's name. Paul continued, "we want to thank you for coming today -"  
"Thank you." John interrupted.

The crowd giggled and Paul continued, "this is _Dream Baby_." And then the band broke into song, and the people surrounding us began to dance, so we three joined in.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	14. Chapter Thirteen

We had all spent the entire day in the Cavern Club; the boys playing (with the odd break), and us girls watching and dancing - and Cyn and Dot screaming every so often when Paul or John did something which they deemed particularly sexy.  
But, as all good songs must come to an end, so did our day.

I sighed as I collapsed into the chair beside George.

He turned to me and grinned, "good day, Lo?"  
I nodded eagerly, my limbs feeling weak because I had spent all day using them. "The best, George."

George smiled, nodding. "I'm glad... I like spending time with you, y'know."

I was silent. What could I say in reply to that? I didn't want to lead him on or give him false hope, but at the same time, I also wanted to convey how much I liked him and how much I liked spending time with him.

Luckily, I didn't have to reply. My brother came over with Dot under one arm and a holding a glass of coca-cola in his other hand.

"A'right, Lo?" I nodded. "Enjoy the show?"  
"My legs are about to drop off." I replied.

Dot laughed, "your accent is so funny!"  
Paul shot her a look and she was silent. I blushed and George offered me a supportive smile.

"Dot!" Cyn called as she practically _floated_ over, John following behind her with a tired and annoyed look on his face. "Fancy walking back now?"

Dot nodded at Cyn and moved away from Paul, lacing her arm with Cynthia's.

Cynthia turned to me. "It was nice meeting you, Charlotte."  
I nodded, smiling. "And you, Cynthia -"  
"You'll have to teach me some of those crazy American moves next time!" The two girls kissed their boyfriends goodbye and then left the now almost-empty Cavern Club.

I sighed and looked up from the floor, surprised to see that Paul and George and John were all looking at me.

"What?" I asked in a grumpy tone of voice. "Have I got something on me?" I looked down at my outfit to see if I had spilt anything on it, but couldn't see anything there.

"No." George promised.

"Don't listen to them two, Charlotte. One's a witch and the other's her wicked familiar."  
Paul and George chuckled. "Aye, but which witch is which?" Pete asked as he appeared behind John. The four of us laughed as John tried to hide the fact that he had almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Pete's voice. "Right," Pete said as he came over to me, "I'll be going." He dropped a soft kiss on the top of my head, "see you next show, Charlotte?"

I smiled, nodding, though I had no interest in Pete whatsoever. "Maybe." He gave a goodbye to the lads and then left.

As he disappeared up the Cavern steps to the outside world, George muttered, "arsehole," under his breath. 

I giggled and he beamed at my reaction, seemingly happy that I had overheard his insult of the drummer.

"Right," Paul said, "I'll walk you home then, yeah?"

I nodded and smiled, standing up and smoothing down my skirt, but John interrupted what I was going to say next, "no point in you walkin' her home and then back to your's." He pointed out. "We're practically neighbours - I'll walk her."  
Paul and I exchanged looks and I gave a small shrug. Paul turned to his best friend, "sounds good, John. You sure you don't mind?"

John shook his head, "it's on my way." He promised. Paul smiled at his friend as a way of saying thank you, and then he took me into his arms.

"Look after John, yeah?" I nodded, waiting for Paul to elaborate. "His mum was hit by a car at night, so I think he gets nervous sometimes."  
I nodded again as Paul pulled away from me and kissed the middle of my forehead. "I'll watch out for us both." I promised him.

John and I walked closely beside each other through the quiet streets of Liverpool and then into Woolton, the bus service not running because of the late hour.

"George seems to like you." John said after a few minutes since the last time we had spoke.

I nodded, "he's sweet." I admitted, "and I like him... but he's a little nervous, though - or maybe I am. I don't know."  
"He's always like that." John replied, "he's baby of the group and his family, so he always has someone looking out for him."

"Must be nice."  
John hummed in reply and we turned down Menlove Avenue.

It had turned awkward between us in the few seconds since we had last communicated, so I said, "Cyn seems nice enough."

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he shrugged. "She's a'right. Bit boring at times. Do all girls talk about _feelings_?"

I wanted to laugh at the way he had said the last sentence - as if he was _disgusted_ with girls wanting to talk about their feelings and emotions.

I giggled. "I don't, Lennon." I paused as we stopped outside of my house. "Don't ask me about George again." He nodded.

"As long as I shall live." John crossed his finger over his heart and I giggled. "I'll watch you in from here."  
I nodded, "thanks for walking me, John... see you soon?"  
He nodded, "probably tomorrow, knowing your brother. Night, Lo."

"Night." And then I dashed up the driveway and into the house, surprised to find that it was still open and that Kevin hadn't locked it before he'd gone to bed - because he surely had by now... it was so early in the morning!

I kicked off my shoes and crept into the kitchen to grab a slice of bread. I buttered it and then took a bite, holding it one hand as I went into the living room because I could see the shadows being cast onto the hallway wall, so the light must still have been on in there.

But when I went into the living room, I stopped. On the floor was a body, and I knew it was Kevin. I dropped the buttered bread to the floor and rushed over to my stepdad. I tried to remain calm and breathe in and out of my nose and mouth, but as I turned Kevin over, I saw that he had been lying in a puddle of his own vomit, and his chest wasn't rising and falling.

I screamed, stood up and ran out of the house and to 251 Menlove Avenue. Mendips. John's house. I ran to John.

I pounded on the door relentlessly, sobbing until he opened the door and opened his mouth to ask me what I wanted - but when he saw my face, bathed in the light from the hallway behind him, his mouth fell to the floor and his arms opened. I ran into them and buried my face in his shoulder.

He said, "I'm going to call Paul."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	15. Chapter Fourteen

"I heard crying," Mimi said as she came down the stairs and into the living room, "what's -" She cut herself off when she saw me sobbing in her nephew's arms. "Charlotte?" She hurried over to me and knelt down, "what is it, dear?"

"I'm still trying to get that out o' her, Mimi." John replied, "she's hysterical -"

"Poor child." Mimi wrapped her arms around me and batted John away from the settee. He stood up and she took his seat. "Run over to her house and get -"

John nodded, turning to fulfil his aunt's order, but stopped when I screamed out his name, "John!" Mimi jumped back in surprise and stood up, gesturing for John to sit back down beside me, to soothe me. 

"Mimi," John said as he wrapped his arms around me and used one to press my head into his chest, rocking us both back and forth in an effort to soothe my tears, "would you call Paul? I meant to do it, but she was -" Mimi nodded and hurried out of the room. "Tell him to come over!" John called from the living room when we heard Mimi speaking to somebody from the hallway. John turned his attention to me, "you have to tell me what happened, Lo."

I nodded as much as I could in his arms and then took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself enough to speak. "K-Kevin..."

"Your stepdad?" I nodded.

"W-went into t-the -" I hiccuped, "l-living room and... and..." I sobbed more and John tightened his arms around me, effectively suffocating me, but making me feel safe at the same time. I found that I calmed down very quickly, and stopped crying almost immediately. I took another deep breath and continued, "I went i-into the living r-room and he... he... oh, John!" I exclaimed, "Kevin was on the f-floor, and he w-wasn't b-b-breathing -"  
"Kettle's on, and Paul said he'd be over as soon as he could." Mimi popped her head round the door and John and I looked to her as she spoke.

John nodded, "thanks, Mimi." I nodded in agreement. She gave me a sympathetic look and then left the room. We heard her going into the kitchen. John turned his attention back to me, "Lo, are you sure?"  
I replied, "John, he was cold... and w-was lying i-in a puddle of his own -"

John shushed me, stroking my hair with one of his hands repeatedly, humming a soft tune into my ear. I relaxed in his arms and he continued rocking us. "My mum used to do this to me when I got in a state." As if it had happened twenty years ago, I remembered Paul telling me about John's mum. I wanted to open my mouth and say something to him, but before I could, he continued, "she's gone now, but it's still comforting, ain't it?"

"John, I feel so... so..."

He shushed me gently again. "I know, Lo. We've all been through it; Paul with his mum and me with mine. We know how it feels." He paused for a few seconds before he said, "he'll be here soon, and -"  
"Tea's ready, dears." Mimi came into the room with a tray in her hands. On it there was a teapot, a milk jug and a sugar pot with two teaspoons and two teacups with their saucers. She poured both John and I a cup and added plenty of sugar and milk into either one. "Hot, sweet tea," Mimi explained as she handed my teacup and saucer to me, "it'll solve anything."

I bowed my head at her in thanks, feeling numb. I sipped at the tea and felt the knots in my muscles loosen immediately. Hot, sweet tea had really done wonders for my nerves, but I couldn't get the image of Kevin's body in a pile of vomit out of my head.

What felt like seconds later but was probably about fifteen minutes, there was a knock at the front door and I jumped, spilling the now-cold tea down my clothes. I didn't even react as John went to grab a tea towel from the kitchen and began to mop me up, being careful to avoid touching my breasts too much. Had it been any other time than the present, I probably would have teased him about it.

Mimi answered the door and I heard her say something, and then Paul rushed into the living room just a second later, his brown eyes darting around the room until they landed on me. He rushed across the room and knelt down in front of me, taking both of my hands in his.

"What happened, Lo?" He asked in a worried tone. "Dad's stir crazy - wanted to come over 'ere himself -"  
"It's her stepdad, Paul." John said for me, "she found him..."

"Christ." Paul said, mostly to himself as he regained his full height and began to pace back and forth across the room, his hand against his head as he thought about what to do. "You don't know what happened...?" He asked me. I shook my head.

"You'll stay here for a bit, o'course -"  
"Like Hell she is." Paul replied, turning to his best friend, though he spoke politely. "Dad says she's got a bed at our's - he's up waiting for us now."

I was silent. I was numb.

"We'll go get some of your stuff, and then we'll get going." Paul said as he put his hand at his side once more, "then we'll head off -"  
"Have to call the bizzies before then." John pointed out. "If they find out we knew about a body then they'll get suspicious -"  
"You don't think...?" I hiccuped, sobbing again because the thought of somebody killing Kevin was just too much to think about - even though I hadn't liked him, he was still the man that I had called dad until very recently, and the man who had always looked after me and mum and had always funded us - for a few seconds, I felt bad about the way I had treated him in his final days - but then I remembered how he had lied to me for years. How he had _pretended_ to be my biological father, and how he had probably never intended to tell me the truth. Silently, I thanked Paul for writing me that letter.

"Mimi!" John called, his arms still around me. She came into the room, "Paul and me are going to grab some o' Lo's stuff - watch her, would you?"  
She had her arms crossed her against her chest, not looking amused at the way her nephew had just spoken to her, but when she looked into my eyes, she couldn't say no.

She nodded, coming into the room further and gesturing for John to move. He stood up and she sat in his place again, putting her arms around me, "I won't leave her for a second, John." She promised. "You two boys get on, and we'll be here waiting."

John and Paul nodded. "Mimi," Paul said, now speaking directly to the woman, "would you mind telephoning the police? I'd do it myself, only I want us to be in and out of there in double time."

Mimi hesitated for a few seconds before she nodded. "I will." She promised.

I knew that she didn't like Paul, but I though that she liked me because she was being so kind - or maybe it was the fact that I was in such a state, or perhaps it was that I had just found my stepfather dead in the living room of our house. I wondered if I would ever know.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Paul's POV**

As we pushed the door to Charlotte's home open, I turned to John. "Have you ever, y'know, _seen_ a body before?"

John looked at me as I spoke and bit his lip. "No." He admitted after only a short pause. "You?" I shook a head and he took the lead, going inside.

As we walked through the hallway, into the kitchen and then through into the living and dining rooms, I couldn't help but look around, already in awe at how large my sister's house was in comparison to our's, and how lavishly it was decorated.

When we got into the living room, John and I both stopped at the sight of Charlotte's stepfather on the floor, not breathing, vomit on his face and his chest and a barely eaten slice of buttered bread beside his corpse.

I held back a groan at the scene in front of us.

John winced and I wondered if he was thinking of his mum, as I was of mine. "I guess we've all lost parents now, haven't we?" John asked quietly. "I've lost my mum, your lost your's, and now Charlotte's lost her mum and -"

"Stepdad." I finished for him. I took John's arm and led him away from the body and towards the staircase which we had passed on our way into the kitchen, "but we'll always be around for her. Right up until the end."

John promised, "all the way." It was an uncharacteristically soft and considerate thing for him to say, and I could tell that he meant it because he had spoken so firmly.

In that moment, I felt an odd rush of emotion for my best friend. I was so grateful to him for being protective of Charlotte, my sister, when he had known her for mere days - as long as I had.

"Wow," John let out a low whistle as he looked around Charlotte's room, "she's -"

"Apparently money's easier to come by in California than it is here." I went into the room and grabbed her suitcase, which was sitting on top of her wardrobe. I put it on her bed and unzipped it before I went over to her drawers and began to grab clothes to put into the wardrobe. "John," I said, turning my head to him because he was still standing by the bedroom door, "can you help? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to Lo." He nodded and came over to the chest of drawers, gesturing for me to go to the wardrobe and he'd finish there.

As I pawed through Lo's clothes in her expensive-looking wardrobe, John said, "s'pose she'll live with you, now." I turned to look at him to reply, but blushed a deep red when I saw him holding up a pair of her panties.

"Get outta there!" I exclaimed at him, hurrying over and swatting his hands from the lacy undergarment.

He laughed, flinging the panties into the suitcase on the bed and then shrugged, "ain't nothing I ain't seen before."

"What?" I asked in surprise and disbelief. I wondered if he was having me on - it'd be just like John Lennon to pretend that he'd got off with my sister in the few days since she'd come home to me and dad and Mike.

"She showed me earlier." John replied, "not very secretive, your sister -"

I sighed, "you better be having me on, Lennon, or I'll sock ye - no taking advantage of my little sister, understand?"

"What if George takes advantage?" John asked.

"Do you _really_ think that lad would even know how?" I asked him. John shrugged and nodded, silently telling me that he agreed George was innocent. "Look," I said, "let's just get out of here and then call the police. Being in this house is giving me -"  
John grabbed an armful of her underwear and threw it into the suitcase, and then did the same with every other drawer, finally filling the suitcase to the top with whatever he could fit in from the wardrobe. He zipped the case up and put it on the floor. "Let's go - bizzies'll be 'ere soon."

I nodded and followed him out of the room, and then out of the house.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Charlotte's POV**

Paul and John were back rather quickly. I had stopped sobbing, and instead I was just sitting silently on the settee in Mimi's front room, staring blankly at the empty fireplace, reliving the entire night in my mind.

"Lo?" Paul said when he came into the front room, immediately kneeling down in front of me as John put my suitcase against the wall. He went into the kitchen to give Paul and I some time. I wanted to thank him for that. I looked into the kind, loving eyes of my brother and stifled a sob. Somehow, seeing him looking at me with so much pity in his eyes made me want to cry again. "Oh, Lo," he put his arms around me and then patted my back. I cried again and he tightened his hold on me. "Let's stay here with John tonight, eh?" He asked, pulling back from me so he could look in my eyes, "it's late, and I reckon that him and Mimi'll be awful worried about you all night long."

I opened my mouth to ask if dad would be alright with him staying out - and then I realised that Jim was my legal guardian too, now.

"Don't worry about dad." Paul said, as if he had read my mind. He stood up, "I'll tell John to get the spare blankets out." I nodded and he left me alone for a few minutes to go and speak to John.

Minutes later, we were in John's room.

"I'll take the floor, I s'pose." John said, throwing one of the spare blankets straight onto the carpet. "You take the bed, Lo, and -"  
"Paul can share with me." I said in a shy tone, gesturing to the single bed which looked barely big enough for one body, let alone two.

Paul turned to me in surprise, "you sure? I can take the floor, too -"

I nodded shyly, "you're my brother, Paul," I told him, "and I want someone to, um, just be there during the night...?"

He nodded and smiled softly at me. "Okay. Want me and John to leave so you can get changed?"

I shook my head, "no, I'm too tired. Let's just go to bed, yeah?"

He nodded and got into the bed first so that he was lying beside the wall. He then held up the duvet for me and I got in, wriggling into his arms but leaving an acceptable amount of distance between the two of us - we might be brother and sister, but we'd only known each other a few days and I wanted to be exactly like siblings would be - they wouldn't spoon.

John got onto the floor and sighed. "Night, Maccas."

"Night, John." Paul and I chorused. Paul moved his arms and rested his hands on my stomach. 

As we three began to drift off, I whispered, "Paulie, I love you."

The next morning, I woke up with a dry throat and sore eyes. I rubbed at them, and then swallowed. I got out of the bed and it took me a few seconds to realise that I wasn't in my own bed, but rather John's - and neither my brother or his best friend were in the room with me... but I could hear talking downstairs; two male voices and then one female: John and Paul and Mimi. I went over to my suitcase, which John had lugged up the stairs for me the previous night, and made an attempt at getting dressed and looking presentable.

When I looked in the small mirror in the bathroom opposite John's bedroom, I saw my reflection - and I looked like a mess... but I didn't have time to fix it. Somebody must have heard me walking overhead, because Paul came to the bottom of the stairs and called up to me.

"Lo! Tea's down here and gettin' cold - I was thinking we could get on over back home in a bit -"

"Coming." I replied in a voice barely loud enough to be heard outside of the bathroom, let alone down the stairs. I sighed and went down, my brother immediately embracing me and bringing a small smile to my face. "Come 'ead," he said, leading me by the hand into the kitchen, "John's been waiting for you to get up for half an hour and more."

John smiled as I walked into the kitchen and I smiled back, feeling my day get a little brighter when we locked gazes. He came over and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. "Everything will be a'right in the end, Lo," he said, "if it isn't a'right, then it isn't the end."

"You're too good for this world, John." I said, turning to him and hugging him, feeling closer to him this morning than I had the previous day - possibly because he had held me until Paul arrived after I had found Kevin -

I felt tears fill my eyes, and I was about to break into tears again, but Mimi distracted me, "there's a police officer in the living room who needs to speak with you, dear," she informed me in a kind tone, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head in an almost-motherly way. I imagined that she had done this to John many-a-times when he was younger - somehow, I couldn't imagine John at twenty-one years old being kissed by his aunt very much. "I've set him up with a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea, and he said he's quite happy to wait until you've had your breakfast."  
I nodded, "thank you, Mimi -"  
"Aunt Mimi to you, dear." She smiled, "I think you need a family, now -"  
"She's got me and Mike and da, Mimi." Paul pointed out.

"And me." John added.

"Yes," Mimi turned and looked at the two boys, replying in a patronising tone of voice, "but she needs a _woman_. Dear," she now spoke directly to me, "if you ever feel like you can't go to your father with anything, then come to me. I will always be here for you."

Oddly touched, I smiled and dashed out of John's arms and into her's. She hugged me in return, and John chuckled under his breath.

I wondered if she had ever embraced him - she didn't seem like the kind of woman to show affection very often.

"There now," Mimi cooed, holding me at arm's length and brushing some strands of hair from my face, "let's get some breakfast in you." She gestured to the table. Paul sat on one side, John on the other, and I sat beside my brother and opposite John. She put a bacon sandwich and a cup of hot, sweet tea in front of each of us before she turned and left the room.

Paul said, "do you want me to be with you when you talk to the officer?" I nodded. "Me, da and Mike are all the family you've got now, Lo," he told me, "and I'm never leaving your side. You're stuck with me forever."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	18. Chapter Seventeen

After we had finished breakfast, we took our time finishing our teas - but really, I was putting off the inevitable, and Paul was putting off pushing me into the living room.

I had no idea if I was up for this.

Finally, when he realised that we could put it off no longer, Paul put his hand over mine, which was resting on the table top, and he said, "Lo, I think the officer's waiting for us."  
I nodded slowly. "I know... I just... I don't know what to say, Paul." I paused, "I went in there after John walked me home, and I found him lying there. I turned him over and he was -"

I began to sob, and Paul put his arms around me, shushing me and soothing me.

He sighed, "just tell him that, then. They can't make you say something that you don't know. I'm sure this is regular with all their cases - they have to question the person who found 'em, y'know?"

I sat back and wiped my tears, sniffling as I nodded and looked at John for reassurance.

"I'll be right outside the door if you need me." He promised.

I took a deep breath, "okay... I have to do this, so let's get it done sooner rather than later." Paul nodded and we both stood up, him leading me into the living room and John behind us, waiting at the door, just as he had finished.

The policeman was talking to Aunt Mimi, but when they saw us both enter the room, they stopped their conversation and Mimi got up and left, taking the police officer's empty plate and teacup with her.

I sat on the settee opposite the police officer, who was sitting in the armchair, and Paul sat beside me.

"Miss, I need to speak with you alone -"

"Paul is my brother." I said, "he stays." I sounded a lot more confident than I felt, but that didn't stop me from eyeing the police officer, silently trying to get across that Paul would be staying or we would both be leaving.

The police officer cleared his throat, "v-very well, then..." he took out a notebook and pen and began to ask questions, "I'm Officer Steele. May I ask your name?"

"Charlotte Fisher." I wanted it to be McCartney so badly, but I knew that Officer Steele was making an official report and needed my information to be as accurate as it could be.

"Age?"

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in four weeks."

Officer Steele noted my age and then asked, "relationship to the deceased?"

"Stepfather - though until recently, I thought he was my biological father." Paul tightened his grip on my hand and I turned my head to look at him. He gave me a supportive smile and I returned it. I was so grateful for him there at that moment.

"And you found Mr Fisher, correct?"  
I nodded. "John - that is, the boy who lives here - was walking me home because it's just across the road. I went in and he went home. I went into the kitchen and buttered a slice of bread for myself because it was late and I was hungry. I noticed that the lights were on in the living room because I could see the light being reflected around the house through mirrors and stuff." I was trying to give as much information as possible. "When I went into the living room to turn them off, Kevin was on the floor, face down. I think I dropped my bread - I don't really remember that part - and then I went over to him and knelt down. I um," I held back a sob as I was forced to relive the previous night's events, "I turned him over and saw he had been lying in a puddle of..."

The police officer nodded, silently telling me that I didn't have to finish. He continued to take notes and then stopped, looking back up at me.

"Did Mr Fisher have any enemies who perhaps might have wanted to hurt him?"  
"You don't think it was... m-murder, do you?" I gasped, burying my head in Paul's chest as he held me tightly.

"At this stage, Miss Fisher," Officer Steele said as I continued to cry into my brother's arms, "nothing can be ruled out -"

"Lo and Mr Fisher were new in town." Paul informed the police officer, "been 'ere less than a week. No way he'd have enemies already, right, Lo?"  
I nodded, humming in reply but still not removing my head from Paul's shoulder, where I was now resting it as the policeman continued to ask questions.

I really wanted to tell him to bog off and to leave Paul and I alone, but I knew that he had to do his job, and I had to answer everything he said as honestly and as accurately as possible.

"Miss Fisher, did your stepfather have any addictions? Alcohol, perhaps? Narcotics, even?"  
I shook my head. "Not that I know of." Paul helped me to set up, but still kept an arm around me, steadying me. "He drunk, but as much as anybody else. Never to excess. He was always responsible with things like that."

The police officer nodded, noting my words down.

"And was the door open when you got back last night?"

I thought for a few seconds. "No. I had to pull down the handle to open it because it was on the latch."

Officer Steele finished taking his notes before he said, "well, thank you for answering my questions... do you have a legal guardian in the city?"

"Our dad." Paul said before I could. "Jim McCartney, 20 Forthlin Road. We're heading back there in a bit, Officer. Feel free to stop by if you need anymore information from my sister."

Officer Steele scribbled down the address Paul had said and then he bowed his head, "I'll see myself out." He said as he did just that, leaving Paul and I alone in the living room.

John came in once Steele had left. "You a'right, Lo?" He asked, holding out another cup of tea to me.

I nodded and then sighed, wriggling out of Paul's arms to take the teacup and sauce. "Just exhausted, John."

"Best be getting back home to da, and then you can sleep." I nodded again, agreeing with Paul.

I yawned, "yeah, sounds good."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	19. Chapter Eighteen

John looked at me and smiled, "you _will_ call if you need me, won't you?" I nodded, promising to do just that.

"She won't." Paul said teasingly as he put an arm around my shoulders, "she's got me."  
John smiled at his friend and then turned back to me. "If McCharmly ever gets too much, then you know where I'll be."  
I nodded again, giggling at his nickname for Paul, "Menlove Avenue."

He nodded, "and don't you forget it." Mimi was watching from the living room window having already given me a kiss on the top of the head and a hug goodbye.

I turned to Paul, "let's get on 'ome then, eh?"

"Let's go." He led me down the garden path of Mendips and then along Menlove Avenue, back towards Forthlin Road.

As we walked, Paul hummed. "That's a pretty tune." I said. It had, of course, been accompanied by the sound of my suitcase's wheels on the pavement. Paul had insisted on pulling it himself, though I had offered to help several times.

"Oh," he said in surprise, as if he hadn't realised that he had been humming it, "just something me and John 'ave been tinkering around with.

"Has it got any lyrics?"  
"Not yet."

I hummed in disappointment, "I'd like to hear them if it ever gets any."

Paul shrugged, "maybe it will, I dunno. If it does, you'll be the first to hear it." I smiled at that. We walked in silence, this time without the humming, for a few minutes longer before Paul said, "can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." I replied, shrugging, "though I think that if I'd have said no, then you would have asked anyway."  
He chuckled, "you know me so well, Lo... anyway, I wanted to ask what you thought about Geo."

"George?" I echoed in surprise. Paul nodded. I narrowed my eyes at him, "has this got something to do with John asking me last night?"  
"John asked you?" Paul echoed, an octave higher than usual. I nodded. "What did you say to him?"

"The same thing that I'm going to tell you;" I paused, "George is sweet, and I like him a lot, but I think we're both a little nervous around each other."

"Ah, yes well, Geo's always been -"  
"Babied." I finished. "I know. The youngest in his family and in the band." I sighed, "well, I definitely like him, so is that the answer you were looking for?"  
Paul held his hands up in defence, "who says I was looking for any specific answer?"  
I giggled and elbowed him. "You're too much, Paul."  
A few minutes afterwards, we arrived at 20 Forthlin Road. Paul led the way up the garden path and opened the door without a key. He led me inside.

"Da!" Paul called up the stairs, "we're home!"  
Jim appeared in the doorway up ahead of us, wearing a greying apron and holding a wooden spoon in one hand. He looked quite funny in his attire, and I had to resist a giggle.

"Lo..." Jim trailed off as he hurried over to me. Paul stepped out of the way just in time, and Jim took me into his arms.

I hugged him back, my heart slowing as I buried my head in his shoulders and whispered, "dad..."

When he pulled away, dad asked, "are you alright? I'm sorry I couldn't come - it was too late and I couldn't rightly leave Mike in bed - but I sent Paul over for you."  
I nodded, "I'm fine... and Paul was enough. We stayed at John's last night."

"Mimi's taken a shine to her." Paul said in an amused tone, his eyes glittering with a smile as he excused himself and went into the living room, leaving me and dad alone.

"Did they question you?" 

I nodded, "made me relive it all... God, it was horrible -"  
"Well at least it's all over, now." I agreed, humming my reply. "I've set you a bed up in Paul's room - I'm sorry we don't have more space. I _did_ try to get Mike to move in with Paul and give you his room, but -"  
"Rooming with Paul's fine." I promised dad, "he's, um... well, he's everything to me, now. Nobody's ever been so kind to me in my life. Him and John have really made me feel welcome."

"O'course he has," Jim said, hugging me again, "I raised him properly, and Mimi did a good job with John, no matter what anyone says about her."  
I wondered just what people said about her. She seemed perfectly lovely to me - if a little stand offish and abrupt at times.

Dad noticed that he was still holding the wooden spoon and he chuckled, "I was just making dinner. You like Scouse, aye?"  
"Scouse?" I echoed, "like... _people_ , or -"  
"No, sweetheart," dad cooed at me in an amused and adoring tone, "scouse is a dish - it's why we're called Scousers by the Southerners." 

"Oh." I said. "Is it, y'know -"  
Dad laughed, "a'ready got you using his language, has he?" I assumed that he was referring to Paul, so I laughed.

"It's contagious -"

"My ears are burning!" Paul chimed from the living room. I heard the sound of a phone being placed onto the cradle and then he appeared in the doorway to the living room. "I was goin' out to meet George after dinner, Lo. Fancy coming with?"

I looked at dad and he shrugged, "Lo, I don't know how strict your mum and -"  
"Stepdad."  
"I don't know how strict your mum and stepdad were with you, but I trust my boys to be sensible, and I trust you. If you want to go out then go, and just make sure that someone walks you home if it's late at night -"  
"She'll usually be out with me anyway, da." Paul said, throwing his arm around my shoulders, something which he seemed quite fond of doing. "We've got the same friends now, ain't that right, Lo?"  
I nodded and smiled at my brother and then at our dad.

Jim smiled at the two of us, "I love how close you are... dinner'll be a few minutes, so why don't you set the table?"

Mike was thrilled to see me at dinner, and even more thrilled to hear that I would be living with him permanently and not just part-time, which he had first assumed when dad had first broached the idea of him moving into Paul's room.

"I'm still not giving you my room, though." Mike concluded at the end of his long list which consisted of all the ways having a sister would benefit him.

Paul and I, sitting side-by-side, fought back a laugh, and Jim looked amused as he shovelled scouse into his mouth.

Paul looked at his watch, "well," he said, finishing his dinner, "time to go." He turned to me, "you ready?"  
I'd barely eaten my dinner.

"Paul, she hasn't finished -"  
"It's okay, da." Paul said as he turned to Jim, "I'll get her some chips if she gets hungry -"

"I could actually get them, Paul." I said, turning to Jim, "I have the money that you gave to him for me."  
Dad smiled, "I'd almost forgotten. I'm sorry I couldn't give you any more than that -"  
"It's fine." I paused, "£3 is enough, really. And besides, you're going to be letting me live here -"  
Dad replied, "as my daughter, I wouldn't have it any other way -"  
"Lo, we're going to be late!" He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my seat and into the hallway. Something about Paul made me wonder if he ever was so bothered if he was late to something - I wondered what made tonight any different.

"Bye, dad! Bye, Mike!" I called before Paul shut the front door behind us.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ **  
**


	20. Chapter Nineteen

"We're really glad that you came to Liverpool." My brother said as we left Forthlin Road. I turned to him in surprise. It didn't seem like Paul to be so soppy - but here he was saying it, his feelings on display for me entirely.

"So am I."  
"Me and dad were talking about it last night when I got back from the Cavern," he paused, "he usually waits up, by the way, so if you're ever gonna bring someone home -"  
"Ew," I exclaimed, squirming, "gross, Paul!"  
"Well if you ever do," he continued, making me feel even more uncomfortable, "make sure you do it when I'm not home - we share a bedroom, now!"  
I giggled. "I'm gonna do it on _your_ bed."

"You better not, or I'll... I'll..."  
"You can't think of anything worst, can you?" I chuckled, "well why don't we just both promise to put a sock on the door knob or something if we, y'know, _have company_?"  
Paul smirked, "you thinking of having much _company_ then, Lo?" He teased.

I giggled, "are _you_?"  
"Touché." He touched his nose and we continued to walk in silence for a few more minutes before he asked, "so how are you feeling?" Paul asked as he led me towards where we were supposed to be meeting George. "I know it's been a rough day or so for you, but I hope that me, John and dad and Mike have at least made it a _little_ bit easier -"

"You've all done so much for me." I told him, "and it's made all the difference. I feel so much better now that I'm with you, Paul." I replied honestly, "I never felt entirely comfortable with Kevin, and even my mum, to an extent. With you and Mike and dad, everything just feels like how it's supposed to be -"  
Paul beamed but then interrupted me, yelling, "hey, Geo!" from across the road and down the street, though George, I now realised, was completely recognisable from this distance, even if he had his back to us and a large trench coat shielding him from the bitter Liverpool wind, fresh off the Mersey.

George turned and saw us and I could have sworn that I could see his smile.

Nobody had ever looked happier to be yelled at from fifty yards away. 

Paul grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to George, but I stopped him, yanking him back round so that he was looking into my eyes.

"Paul," I said in a deadly serious tone.

"Lo." He replied in the same tone.

"Do you think dad would let me change my name to McCartney?" I asked. Paul's mouth opened into a little 'o' before he smiled.

"I think dad would like that." He paused, "but only if you're sure -"

George had hurried to meet us halfway down the road and I gasped when he reached us and I realised that he was holding a bunch of white roses - and he was holding them out to me.

"For you, Lo," he said, gesturing for me to take them. I did and smiled, throwing my arms around his body, turning my head to kiss his cheek before I pulled away again, noticing that he was blushing profusely.

"Thank you, Georgie," I giggled at the name, "but you didn't have to... it was my stepdad who died, not -"  
"He died?" George asked in disbelief and surprise.

"I..." I looked down at the white roses, "didn't you know? Isn't that what these are for?"  
George followed my line of gaze, Paul remained silent. George blushed a deeper red and then replied, "I, uh... no..." he took a deep breath, "I got you those c-cos I really like y-you, Charlotte."  
"Oh..." I trailed off, suddenly feeling very awkward. I hoped that I hadn't embarrassed George too badly. "They're lovely, George..."  
George frowned, and Paul asked, "aren't you going to say anything back, Lo?" I shot him a look - a glare, really.

He got the message and smiled, kissing the top of my head. "Reckon I'll be leaving you two alone, then." He paused, "Geo -"  
"I'll walk her home." George promised with a nod of his head. Paul thanked him and then hurried off, leaving the two of us to be alone.

"Let's go some place warmer, eh?" George suggested with a smile. I nodded and he held out his arm to me. I giggled and took it, letting him lead me to wherever he had in mind. We walked in silence, each of us wondering what the night had in store for us.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	21. Chapter Twenty

George sat down beside me in the booth of the American diner, the same one that we'd been to that morning.

"This is nice then, ain't it?" He asked, gesturing for the waitress to come over. I just turned my head and smiled at him, leaning a little closer as the waitress approached - a different one from earlier - and George said, "just order whatever you want, Lo -"

"Whatever you're having'll be fine, Georgie." I told him with a small smile on my face.

"You sure?" He raised an eyebrow, and I nodded, giggling. I wondered if he was going to order something crazy, but after a few seconds, George said, "two cokes and a couple o' chips'll do us, ta." 

The waitress nodded and hurried off, leaving the two of us alone.

She brought back the drinks before we had a chance to talk, two paper straws in her hand as she set the bottles of cola on the table and handed either of us a straw. We thanked her and she promised to be back with the chips when they were ready.

When she had disappeared again, I turned back to George, who was already sipping at the glass bottle without using his straw. "Can I ask you a question?"  
He looked surprised, his eyes widening as bubbles fizzed out of the top of the glass bottle and then fell onto his shirt. I giggled as he sighed in annoyance, trying to brush the liquid off as if it would make a difference.

He coughed, "s-sure," he replied when he had recovered himself.

"Well... when you gave me the flowers, you said that you like me... I was just wondering, um..." I blushed, unsure of how best to phrase what I desperately wanted to know.

"I meant," George said, taking one of my hands in both of his and resting it on the table, our eyes locked together, "that I _like_ you, Lo. I like your smile and the way you do your hair. I like your accent, and the perfume that you wear -" he cut himself off, "but you haven't put any on today." He frowned.

"When John and Paul went to get my stuff last night, they forgot my perfume." I sighed, "I suppose I'll have to go back and get it -"  
George teased me, pretending to sniff me, putting extra effort into making a scene. People sitting at the tables and booths around us turned to watch what this strange boy beside me was doing, and I was giggling, jokingly swatting him away.

When he had recovered himself, George said, "Lo, I don't care _how_ you smell, okay? Your perfume was just another thing that made me realise how much I _like_ you." George paused, "and I was wondering if... well, I know it's really early, since you've only been 'ere for a few days, and we haven't known each other for much longer, but I was wondering if... if maybe one day in the not-too-distant future, you'd consider maybe, um, going steady with me?" He was blushing like crazy, and it was adorable.

I smiled at him... no, beamed, actually. "Yeah, George," I said in an eager tone of voice, "absolutely... and maybe the future doesn't have to be far from now. How does Monday sound to you?"

"M-Monday?" George asked in surprise and confusion, closing his eyes briefly while he spoke and shaking his head, making his cute haircut move with him.

I nodded, giggling. "Monday morning. When we wake up, we're going steady."

George chuckled. "Monday sounds amazing." He paused, "can, I, um... well, can I kiss you, Lo?"

I leaned in and pecked his lips.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

George, as promised, had walked me home after our 'date'. It was a few hours after night had fallen, and when I got through the door - after kissing George's cheek to say goodbye - Paul descended on me.

"What happened?" He asked desperately, "did he do it? He said he would -"  
I laughed, patting my brother's shoulder as a way of silencing him. "Yes," I replied, "he did it." I hung up my coat - well actually, I had borrowed it from Paul - and then turned to him. 

"What did you say?"  
"I said yes."  
"So you're dating George now?" Paul asked rhetorically, but my answer surprised him.

"From Monday?"  
"Monday?" Paul echoed in surprise. I nodded. "Why Monday?"  
"Because I have to get some things sorted first -"  
"But Monday is a few days away. What're you going to sort out before then -?"  
"Lo?" We heard dad call from his bedroom, "is that you?"  
Paul gestured for me to go up the stairs, so I kicked my shoes off and then did just that. Paul followed me.

I knocked on dad's bedroom door first in case he was indecent, but he called me in right away.

"You're home." Jim said, sighing in relief as he settled back against the pillows of the bed. "I'm glad."  
"Sorry if I worried you, dad." I replied, sitting on the empty side of the bed, the one where I assumed Paul and Mike's mum used to sleep in, "I didn't mean to."

"I know that." Dad smiled at me and put a hand on my shoulder, patting it like I had just done to Paul. "You're a good kid, Lo, and I trust you."  
"Well that's good -"  
"How was the date with George?"

"Y-you knew about that?" I asked in disbelief.

Dad nodded and then chuckled as Paul settled himself down beside me, sandwiching me between him and our dad. "Paul told me earlier before you both left."  
"Did everybody know but me?" I asked, turning to my big brother.

He shrugged, "I don't think Mike did...?"  
"About Lo and George's date!?" Mike called from his bedroom, "yeah, I knew!"  
The three of us laughed, unsure if Mike was laughing as well since he didn't emerge.

"So?" Dad asked, "what did you say to George when he asked you to be his girlfriend?"

"Well, I said that he'd have to wait until Monday."  
"For an answer?"  
"No," I replied, "I said that on Monday morning, when we woke up, we'd be going steady." I paused, "I hope that's okay?" I looked at dad when I asked this, quickly elaborating, "because I don't know what your policy is on boyfriends -" I cut myself off, looking briefly at Paul, "girlfriends, I suppose. Partners, even."

Dad chuckled, "I don't mind. I like meeting them and having them around. Make them part of the family... but they're not allowed in your room unless the door is open -"  
Paul chuckled, sounding much the same as Jim had done so previously, "but if you shut our bedroom door really slowly, then he'll never know."

"Right," Jim said in a teasing tone, "next time, I'm coming up to check on your, Mister."  
"What makes you think there'll be a next time, da?" Paul asked, "now Lo and me are sharing, I'll have to find somewhere new to take the birds -"

"Ew, Paul." I wrinkled my eyes up, "gross. Can you be a little less descriptive?"  
Paul chuckled and pulled me into his arms. "It's good to have you 'round, Lo. Fancy walkin' to school with me Monday?"  
I shook my head, "sorry, Paulie," I replied, "but I'm walking to school with my _boyfriend_."  
Jim laughed. "You two get out of here - I want to hear snores in the next twenty minutes."  
"I don't snore, dad."

"Well unfortunately for you," dad replied, "Paul does, so I hope you brought earplugs."

Paul got off of the bed and led me to his bedroom - _our_ bedroom - and I followed, calling out, "night, dad!" as I reached it.

"This'll be your bed." Paul gestured to the one closest to the window, "it's kind of noisy, and squeaks a lot, but it'll be fine... probably." I giggled. "Well," Paul said as he gestured to the little wardrobe in the corner of the room, "I cleared out a bit of space in 'ere for you," he opened one door and gestured to about half of it which was empty, "and there's two drawers in the dresser in the hallway - it won't fit in 'ere with the bed, so we'll have to make do -"  
"This is fine, Paul." I assured him. "Perfect, actually. I'm so grateful to you, Mike and dad for fitting me in. Quite honestly, you could have stuck me in the larder and I'd be grateful to you."

He chuckled. "Pantry 'ere, Lo." I nodded, making a mental note before he said, "and I asked dad about changing your name. He said he'd go down to the office tomorrow and get papers to do it. Reckons it'll be done by the end of the week."

I hugged Paul, "thank you. You're the best brother ever."

"I'll be the best brother _for_ ever." Paul promised, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head, "you're stuck with me now, Charlotte McCartney."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

On Monday morning, I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes, only one thought coming to my mind.

 _George_.

I breathed out contentedly and closed my eyes for a few more seconds before I felt my duvet being pulled up and somebody slipping into the bed beside me.

"Happy first day being a Liverpool lad's bird." Paul teased.

I pretended to be asleep.

"Come on," he said, poking the side of my rib cage and making me giggle and open my eyes, grinning at him. "We're going to be late for school."  
I groaned. "I forgot about that..."

"You nervous?"  
I bit my lip. "Do you think I'll make friends?"  
My older brother nodded. "Absolutely. You've got a crackin' accent, and you're American, so everyone will want to be friends with you - not to mention that you're _my_ sister." He said the last part proudly.

I giggled, "Mr Popular, then?"  
"You have no idea." He chuckled, "with the girls, anyway... but don't worry - if, by some complete miracle, you don't make any new friends, then you'll have me and Geo - and John's in the school attached but he usually sneaks through for a lunchtime practise."

I nodded, the mention of John and George being around making me feel more easy - and Paul, of course. I had no doubt that the three of them would make me feel very welcome.

"Lo!?" I heard dad call from downstairs, "George is at the door for you!"  
I turned to Paul, "already?" I asked.

Paul shrugged as best he could whilst laying down. "Guess he couldn't wait to see his _girlfriend_!"  
I giggled, elbowing him. "Shuddup, McCartney."

"As you wish, _McCartney_."

Dad was taking the documents to the office later so I could officially have my name changed to Charlotte McCartney."

Paul got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, and I got out of the bed to get my new school uniform ready to put on. "I'll be down in a bit, dad!" I called down, realising that I hadn't replied because Paul had distracted me.

* * * * *

When I came downstairs, Paul was sitting at the small table in the kitchen with a cup of tea and George was sitting opposite him with his own cup of the steaming beverage. They both looked up and beamed when they saw me enter the room.

"Thought you'd never join us, Lo." Paul teased, taking another sip from his cup.

George had stood up by way of a greeting when I entered the room, a sign of respect. Now he said, "good morning, girlfriend." He came round the side of the table and pecked my cheek politely.

I turned to him and grabbed him by the back of the neck, planting my lips firmly against his own and kissing him passionately. We both closed our eyes and George quickly kissed me back, opening my mouth with his lips and pushing his tongue against my own.

After a minute of watching our make out session, Paul cleared his throat and George and I both disentangled our arms from each other, turning with bright red cheeks to see my brother with his eyes narrowed at us.

"Eh," he said, "none of that where dad can see, y'hear? You gotta keep it out of his sight!"

George and I chuckled and then he reached into the pocket of his school trousers, pulling out four or five daisies, all of them crushed but beautiful nevertheless. "For you." He said, handing them to me. I took them and smiled at him. "I'm sorry they're a little sorry-looking."  
"They're beautiful, Geo." I replied honestly, "where did you find them? I didn't think that they grew in the fall -"  
"Autumn." Paul corrected, still drinking from his cup of tea. George and I both shot him an annoyed look before we turned back to each other.

He replied, "the late bloomers are coming out now."

My mouth was wide open, totally amazed at how he knew that because I wouldn't have.

George shrugged, "if things don't work out with the band, then I think I'll become a gardener."

I smiled and pecked his lips softly, "I think that sounds like it'd really suit you, Geo."

He beamed and then laced one of his hands with mine and asked, "ready to get to school?"

I nodded and he took my schoolbag from the chair where I had left it the previous night, ready for this morning. He shouldered it, and I tried to object and insist that I could carry it, but he didn't let me. George insisted that he carry it.

"My first official act as boyfriend to the most beautiful girl in all of Liddypool." I blushed and Paul scoffed.

I turned to him and frowned, "you're just jealous, Paul."

"Ah yes," he agreed in a sarcastic tone of voice, "because I would just _love_ to be George Harrison's girlfriend. Forgive me, Lo, I don't think I'll ever get over this -"  
I took one of the daisies from the bunch in my hand and flicked it at my brother. He closed his eyes just in time, because it hit his left eyelid. Perfect aim.

"Ouch."

"It didn't hurt, Paulie." I replied in a patronising, teasing tone. He huffed but stayed silent. I turned to George, "let's go."

George led me out of the room. I called up the stairs, "bye, dad!" but George told me that he had already left for work.

"So," I said as we walked the unfamiliar-to-me way to school, with George leading the way because it was apparently his normal route, "do you and Paul walk together?"  
George shook his head. "We usually meet on the bus and then walk the last bit together."

"Oh." I paused, "you could do that today, if you like." I paused again, "I don't want to get between you two."

George chuckled, squeezing my hand, "Lo, you could never. Paul and I are best mates, but there's something different when a girl's involved."  
"And when that girl is your best friend's sister?" I teased.

George turned to me and smiled, "we'll have to find out."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

We arrived at the school gates and George stopped. I did the same because we were holding hands and his sudden halt made me grind to one as well. I turned to him.

"Is something wrong?" I asked him softly and quietly in case anybody overheard.

George shook his head, smiling adoringly at me before he replied, "you're shaking."

"I'm not -" I looked down at our entwined hands and realised that I was. "Oh..." I bit my lip. "I didn't even realise."  
"Don't be nervous." George said softy, "everybody is going to love you. You're going to do great here. I bet you're really smart, Lo, so you'll do fine in all your classes -"

"Eh, Geo." I jumped, turning at the sound of an unfamiliar Liverpudlian accent.

"Mornin', John." I turned and faced the stranger, who looked surprised to see me. 

"Who's this?" The stranger, John, asked.

"Charlotte McCartney." I replied holding out my hand which had previously been holding George's.

"McCartney?" John raised an eyebrow, "as in _Paul_?"  
I nodded, "my brother."  
"Interesting accent." The stranger John pointed out with a smirk, perhaps trying to catch me out in a lie.

I nodded, "I grew up in America."

"And recently moved?"

I ignored his previous question and instead asked, "and you are?"  
"John McCabe." George explained before John could, "one of my best mates." George looked at John, "Lo's my girl."  
The way he phrased that question had made it sound like he wanted me to confirm it for his new friend. I didn't have a problem with that, but I didn't want to spend my entire day going around to students and having to agree with George that I was his. I wanted it to be natural, and obvious. Not something that a big deal was made of.

Nevertheless, I hummed in reply.

McCabe raised an eyebrow. "Dating a McCartney, Geo... I always thought it would be her brother."

George blushed a deep red and I laced my hand with his again. George seemed to find strength in this action because he turned his head briefly to smile at me before he replied, "I told you, John. I'm not a fag. Paul and me are just good friends -"

"Sure." McCabe paused, turning to me. "It was nice meeting you. See you around."

He didn't give me a chance to reply before he turned and strode off. I turned to George, "well he was rude."  
George chuckled.

"I hope everybody here isn't like that."  
"Don't worry," George assured me, "they're not. Most people are quite nice... usually." He paused, "some might mention your accent, though. They love the American GIs here, so -"

"GIs?" I asked, "what do they come here for?"  
"In from the Mersey." My boyfriend explained quickly, "they're assure for about a week while their boat gets reloaded and whatever else, and then they're off... that's why we get the best 45s and LPs here."

"Oh," I paused, "it'd be nice to meet some of them, then. Remind me of home -"  
"Liverpool isn't home yet?" George asked me in a surprised tone of voice.

"Almost." I told him, "I guess it just feels so natural to call Cali home that I haven't quite gotten out of the habit yet."

George smiled and wrapped an arm around my waist, unlacing our fingers to do this. "Don't worry about it, Lo. It'll happen when it's ready. Shall we go meet some other people?"  
I nodded, feeling only slightly eager.

George and I were in the same class despite us being about eight months apart in age. In all of our lessons, we were together, so we sat at the back of the class and he helped me with the work that they had been doing the previous year, though it was definitely easier to start at the beginning of a new school year than it was to start halfway through one.

"Is Paul _really_ your brother?" I sighed at the question, briefly remembering the other three times I had already been asked it by other people that day - and it wasn't even lunchtime, yet.

I turned to the girl who had asked. "What's it to you?"  
I was being rude, but I was so sick of everybody asking me that question, or something similar - mostly about America. A few rude, nosy people had even asked me how I could be Paul's sister if we had different accents and they had never heard of nor met me before today.

The girl simpered, "I'm Grace. Paul's my _boyfriend_ -"  
"I think that his _girlfriend_ might have a problem with that." I replied in a tone that just _dripped_ with sarcasm. "Dot Rhone? Maybe you've heard of her -"  
"Oh, please." Grace replied, putting a hand to her chest in an offended tone, "as if he's interested in her. She's his girlfriend in name, only."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, genuinely interested but not wanting to let on that she had information that I wanted.

George sighed from beside me and put his pencil down, "just leave it, Lo -"

"Well, we all know about the girls he takes into the closet at the end of the hall on the second floor."  
"What about it?"

"Lo, I'd leave it -"  
"George," I said softly, turning to him, "I want to know. Shush." I wasn't rude to him, or even dismissive. Somehow I had managed to shush him politely.

Grace smirked at George in a self-satisfied way and then continued talking to me, "well Dot's not always around, is she?" She smirked again, "so sometimes Paul picks a girl and takes her into the closet for a bit... if you get the picture?"

She giggled, and so did her two friends who were sitting on her other side.

I blushed a deep red, surprised it had taken me that long to work out.

"Lo," George said in my ear, "I did tell you to leave it -"

"Does he really do that, Geo?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears as I thought of my brother doing such a horrible thing as cheating on his girlfriend with people in school.

George sighed, "most guys do it."  
"W-would you?" I asked, tearing up.

"What?" George asked in surprise, "no, of course not." He tightened his arms around me and pulled me to his chest, "Lo, I'd never do anything to hurt you intentionally. What Paul and those other guys do is wrong. I'd never."

Grace giggled. George and I turned to her, unaware that she had been watching and listening to the whole thing.

"That's what they all say." Grace said. Her two friends laughed again, hiding their giggles behind their hands. "And then they meet someone who makes them change their minds..." she trailed off and now spoke directly to me, "look - Lo, is it?" I nodded, "I like your accent and your clothes, so if you ever need a friend, then you know where I am."

George recoiled, intaking his breath sharply when she said that, and I noticed, but Grace didn't.

I didn't want to cross out any type of friendship, so I said, "thank you, Grace, but I'm fine for now. I have my brother and George -"

"For now." Grace went back to her work.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

The bell rang throughout the school, echoing that it was lunchtime. I turned to George, who hadn't spoken a word since Grace had told me the truth about Paul.

"Geo?" I asked him softly as the rest of the class left, all of them sweeping past our desk as we were sitting at the back of the room and in front of the door. I put a hand on his shoulder, "George, I think it's lunchtime."

"Are you going to mention it to Paul?" He asked me glumly, turning to look at me, no shine in his usually bright brown eyes.

"Mention that what he's doing with other girls is wrong?" George nodded slowly, obviously hating the way I had phrased my question. I sighed, "not if you don't want me to... but why haven't you said anything to him?"

"I have." George replied. I looked to the front of the room. The teacher narrowed his eyes at us but then sighed and swept out of the room using the door at the front of the class which led directly to the staff room.

"And what does he say?"

"He just shrugs it off -" George cut himself off, and I sighed.

"You're hiding something." He looked at me again and then put his head in his hands.

"You were never supposed to find out, Charlotte."  
"Find out what? That my brother is a serial adulterer?" I asked rhetorically.

"To be honest, I don't think you're an adulterer unless you're married -" When I narrowed my eyes at him, George quietened himself, "but no, that wasn't it."

"What is it then, Geo?"  
"Well, Dot and Paul were engaged."  
" _Were_?" I echoed with surprise and curiosity in my tone.

"She was pregnant. Paul bought her a gold band and everything, all prepared to do the right thing... but then Dot got really sick, and y'know..." he trailed off, unsure of how else to phrase it - but he didn't need to.

A tear slipped down my cheek and I said softly, " _oh_." George hung his head. "That's horrible. Poor Paul... and poor _Dot_."

"It really tore the two of them apart, even though Paul was relieved because he didn't want to get married." I pictured my brother sitting in a hospital room with Dot at his side, his hand on her leg as they were told what had happened. She was crying and he was saddened, but he comforted her.

"How long ago was this, George?"  
"About a month before you arrived." George sighed, "I don't think Dot and Paul will be together for much longer - it really put a strain on them."

The teacher reappeared and cleared his throat, "the two of you need to leave. This classroom isn't in use during lunchtime."

George and I nodded glumly and then nodded, getting out of our seats and grabbing our bags before we left.

He took my hand as we walked down the hallway, leading me towards wherever he and Paul usually sat at lunchtime. It was out on the school field, apparently, because he led me across the green grass and behind a tree. Paul was sitting against the trunk, two girls in front of him, both of them in fits of laughter. When George and I appeared hand-in-hand, the two girls stopped giggling and stared at us... well me, specifically.

"Ah!" Paul exclaimed in delight, following the girls' line of vision. "You're here! I thought you were going to leave me lonesome for the whole hour - lucky that Nory and Debbie here decided to keep me company." The two girls, Nory and Debbie, turned to him and giggled at his words. He dropped them both a wink and I had to resist the urge to smack Paul round the back of the head - after what he'd just gone through with Dot, he was already flirting with girls!

But then, he'd been doing it long before I got here, and I didn't think he would ever change.

"Girls," Paul said, "I want you to meet my sister, Charlotte." I gave them a small, awkward wave and George pulled me down to the floor. I sat in between his legs and he spread them on either side of me. Paul continued, "you will be nice to her, won't you? Include her in your games when me and Geo aren't around?"

 _Games_ made it sound so immature.

But the girls nodded eagerly, "of course, Paul!" They chorused before erupting into another fit of giggles.

Paul smiled and turned to me, "Lo, this is Noreen and Deborah. Nory and Debbie." He turned back to the girls, but before he could say anything else, the ginger haired girl spoke.

"I didn't know Paul had a sister."  
"And an American one, at that." The second girl added.

I hummed in reply, unsure of what to say - unsure of what Paul _wanted_ me to say, since the people at the Liverpool Institute were his friends long before they were mine.

"Lo was given away as a baby to a nice couple in America." Paul explained, sensing my awkwardness. He shot me a look that screamed _I'm sorry I have to lie_. But I understood. If word somehow got out that Jim had had an affair in America and left a bastard baby behind, then he'd be the dirty talk of the town. "She's just found her way back to us - by some stroke o' luck, her adoptive father moved her to Liverpool -"  
"And then died," I finished, "so I live with Paul now."

The ginger girl replied, "well that is _fascinating_." Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Debbie, wasn't that just an invigorating story?"  
Debbie, the blonde, nodded. "Absolutely." She was being just as sarcastic. Fantastic. I hated everybody I had met so far at the Liverpool Institute.

Paul said, "girls, don't be unkind." He pouted, "it'd make me sad."

The two girls said, "sorry, Paul."  
"It isn't me you should be apologising to." They sighed and turned to me.

"Sorry, _Lo_." They chorused.

Paul sighed and shot me an apologetic look. I shrugged and turned to George, who had been watching the whole thing.

"Sorry about them two." He said quietly so that only I could hear him.

"They're awful." I told him honestly.

He chuckled, nodding. We sat in silence for a minute whilst Paul flirted with Nory and Debbie. George then asked, "reckon I could take you out Friday?" Before I could reply, he elaborated, "just to see a picture, o' course. Nothing fancy -"

I cut him off with a kiss, passionately locking my lips with his as I twisted my neck so I could knot my fingers in his hair. George moaned quietly into my open mouth as our tongues twisted together. 

"Friday's good." I said quietly when I separated us for a few seconds, our foreheads resting together. "I can't wait. After school?"

George nodded, "Paul will take your bag for you, won't you, Paul?"

When we both looked at Paul, we realised that Debbie had disappeared somewhere. Nory was sitting closely beside Paul, and he had one arm around her waist. "I will what?" he asked, obviously confused as he had been paying too close attention to the girl beside him.

"Take Lo's bag home on Friday so we can go straight to the picture house." George replied.

"Oh yeah," Paul agreed, "sure. No problem. Friday."

And then he went back to talking with Nory.

George and I got up just as the bell rang again and we went to our next class. But Paul didn't. Paul stayed at the tree with Nory as they didn't have a lesson because they were a year older than us and were in sixth form.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

Last thing on Friday, I had history with George, so when the bell rang signalling the end of school, we stood up in sync with each other and left the class, our bags bumping familiarly at the sides of our legs.

We got to the school gates where we had arranged to meet Paul and give him my bag.

And as promised, my brother was there, Mike at his side. Mike went to our school, but because he was in the younger year, we never saw him - though he and Paul sometimes walked home together - they'd been doing so ever since Monday, when I had started walking with George.

"Hey, Paul." I smiled at my brother as I bounded up to him, already holding my bag out to him because I was so eager to get going with George.

"Hey." He smiled in reply, taking my bag from me. "Have a good night, yeah?" He kissed the side of my head. "And if he tries anything," he whispered into my ear, "then I'll batter 'im."  
I giggled, "oh, please, Paul." I replied, "you couldn't batter a fish."

"Eh!" He exclaimed, tickling my sides, "you cheeky git!" I squirmed away from him and into George's open arms. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head as he was about three inches taller than me.

"Ready to go?" George asked quietly. I nodded, watching as Paul handed my bag off to Mike.

"Want me to drop your bag off too, Geo?" Paul asked.

My boyfriend replied, "it isn't on your way -"

"Reckon Mike and me can make a detour." Paul gestured for George to hand over his satchel and after only a brief pause, he did. We thanked Mike and Paul and then separated from them, heading towards the picture house on Penny Lane.

When we arrived, George insisted on paying for our tickets, even though I begged him to let me pay for my own.

"My treat." He repeated it over and over, everytime I asked him to let me pay for something; whether it was the tickets for the film, the snacks or the drinks. "And I'm paying for dinner, too," George told me, "so don't even try for that one."  
I smiled and let him put a hand around my shoulders and pull me close to him as we walked into the screening room, wide grins on our faces. We sat at the back of the theatre, side-by-side, and our hands entwined.

"I like this film," George said about twenty minutes in. "I just wish it was in -"  
"Colour." I finished for him. He hummed in reply. We continued to watch in silence for a few more seconds before I turned my head to him slowly, "Geo?"

"Hmm?" He turned his head to me, our faces barely visible in the dim light provided only by the large screen in front of us.

"I really, _really_ want to kiss you right now."

George smirked and leaned closer to me. I couldn't see this, but I knew because I could smell his scent as he got closer to me. I could feel his warm breath on my skin. As his lips touched mine, my eyelids fluttered closed and my arms went around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I wished that there wasn't an armrest separating us, because the setting of the dark cinema was perfect for a passionate kiss - a hot make out session, really.

We continued to make out, the kiss getting hotter and heavier. My heart was beating so quickly in my chest that I wondered if George could hear it over the volume of the film.

I moaned loudly, and George nipped my bottom lip to elicit another moan from me.

"G-George," I whimpered as the kiss somehow grew even heavier, my hands knotting themselves in his chocolate locks.

George breathed out against my lips and my insides turned to jelly. Everything about this was perfect. Especially George. In the five days which we had been together as boyfriend-girlfriend, we had spent so much time together - every lesson, the trip to school and trip home. He'd walk me home everyday, and now we were here in the picture house together.

I took the hand which he had rested on my knee, and I moved it up my body, placing it over my right breast. It rested there for a few seconds before I said, "just squeeze it a little, Geo... put your hand under my top if it's easier." At my words, he jerked his hand away from my body suddenly and pulled his lips away from mine.

A hand on my breast was as far as I had gone in America with my first boyfriend, Harry... the one who had preferred Sharon Young over me - 

But I couldn't bring myself to care.

I had George now, and Harry and Sharon and even Joan occupied less than a minuscule piece of my mind.

George stood up abruptly and rushed out of the screening room. I stood up and hurried after him, having to resist the urge to call out his name and draw attention to not only myself, but also to him. George didn't like attention on him.

When I got outside of the screening room, I paused, looking left and right for him... and I found him. He was leaning against the wall by the men's room. I walked over to him and then leant against the wall beside him.

"Is everything okay?"

He nodded, trying to calm himself, though he was visibly shaken." Everything's fine, Lo... just, um, go back inside and I'll be there soon -"  
"Did I move too quickly for you, George?" I asked him quietly, coming closer so nobody overheard us. "Because I'm sorry -"

"No." He said in a sure tone of voice, "it's not _moving too quickly_ ," he paused, swallowing. "I've just never done any of that stuff, and you obviously have 'cause you're so confident, and I don't want to disappoint you."

"George," I said, taking one of his hands in mine, which caused him to look at me and lock gazes with me and this meant that he calmed down, "I had one boyfriend in America, and he was a douche. We never went any further than him touching me... just like you did in there." I gestured to the screening room. "We don't have to do it again if you don't want to. I just... it feels good, and I want to feel good George, don't you?"

"I want to." He didn't hesitate. "I want to do everything with you -" he blushed as an older woman walked past and gave us both a dirty look, because she had obviously overheard our conversation. "But I've never done anything beyond kissing before and -"

"I'll teach you everything, George." I promised in a seductive tone, "whenever you're ready, I'll teach you everything... and you'd be surprised, because you pick stuff up as you go. When it feels good, you do it."

George smiled and leaned closer to me, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on my lips. "Mind if we get out of here? I'd like to start one of those lessons now."  
I giggled eagerly and led him out of the picture house. "Take me somewhere we'll be alone, Geo." I whispered in his ear seductively.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

George pulled me to Strawberry Field, which would have taken a lot less time if we had caught the bus - though he insisted that the cold night air would do us good.

I protested and said it would give us a cold, but George didn't care.

When we reached Strawberry Field, we stopped. The gates were closed. "Oh great," I said, "now what are we going to do?" 

I was still _dying_ for him.

George turned to me and smirked, bending down slightly and making a cradle with his two hands. "Leg up." He said.

"No way." I paused. He looked deadly serious. "You're kidding?"

George shook his head, "does it look like I'm kidding?" He paused briefly, "now up and over, Lo, before someone catches us!" He whispered the last part, looking around to see if anybody was watching us.

I followed suit, and when I was satisfied that nobody was paying attention, I put one of my feet into George's hands and grabbed the gates, using them to pull myself up and over. I sat on the top of the gate and offered George a hand, but he shook his head and jumped once, using his height to grab the top and somehow pull himself up with seemingly no effort at all.

I was astounded.

With a smirk to me, George dropped from the top of the gate and landed on his feet. He held out his arms to me. "I'll catch you." He promised. I trusted him. I took a deep breath and jumped, landing less than a second later in George's arms, though we both fell to the floor with the impact of my body hitting his.

We laid there for a few seconds giggling before we heard somebody yelling at us, "hey!" 

Scrabbling off of the floor, we grabbed each other's hand and then he led the way, sprinting through the gardens and pulling me after him until we reached a forest. "In here!" George exclaimed breathlessly, continuing to run into the thick of the trees.

After another thirty seconds of running, both of us giggling to ourselves, we could no longer hear the voice chasing us or see its flashlight, so we slowed down and walked, regaining our breaths now that we were safe.

"That," I huffed, "was a thrill."

We had reached a fallen tree trunk, except it wasn't completely fallen. It had landed against a tree which was still standing, and so was using that as its prop-up. George turned to me and in the darkness, I couldn't see the hunger in his eyes when he practically growled, "I love your accent."  
He then pushed his lips against mine rather aggressively, pushing my body against the tree trunk. I bent my back slightly as my hands went to his shoulders as I held him there and we kissed for what felt like seconds but was probably over a minute. Time would past so quickly when I was with George.

And then George broke away suddenly, and I ran my fingertips across my lips where he had been kissing me just milliseconds before.

Taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to steady my breathing - partly because of how wonderfully he had been kissing me, and partly because I still hadn't recovered from our sprint.

"Geo?" I asked him. He responded with an almost silent hum, "you don't regret bringing me out here, do you?"  
"No!" George exclaimed, though not loudly enough to alert the Strawberry Field security guard to our location. "Of course not, Lo. I'm just... I'm just nervous."

I leant back against the tree and reached out blindly in the darkness until I found his body. I clutched at the fabric of his shirt and pulled him forward to me. George stumbled forward and my arms went around him to steady him. I connected our lips once more.

It got heated very quickly, and I pulled away from him for a few seconds. "Ready?" I asked as we rested our foreheads together and took shallow breaths in sync. George nodded. I took his right hand and slipped it under my top, placing it over my breast just like before.

George held it there for a few seconds before he began to rub his thumb across the top of my breast, smirking against my lips as he said, "you're so warm."  
I giggled and daringly bucked my hips against his crotch.

To my surprise, but also my delight, George let out a whining moan and I giggled, bucking my hips against his crotch again.

"George," I whimpered as he continued to rub his thumb across the top of my breast, the only part of my tits which he had access to, "please, I need more..."

Silently, George slipped his hand underneath the bottom of my bra and he quickly found my nipple despite the darkness and lack of visibility through my t-shirt. He thumbed it and I moaned, "that's good, uh!"  
George picked up the pace and I whined again, bucking my hips involuntarily this time.

"D-do you w-want me to t-touch you?" I managed to whimper as he sped up his actions, my vagina already buzzing with the pressure which he was applying.

Shamelessly, George took my right hand with his left one and put it on top of his pants. I could _feel_ the bulge there. I could almost sense the deep red which he was no doubt blushing right now. I wished that he wasn't ashamed of his needs.

We went back to kissing, initiated by me, but I palmed him slowly but harshly, squeezing his manhood through the fabric of his trousers every few seconds which always elicited a short string of moans from my boyfriend, who was still paying attention to my breasts, this time changing between pleasuring my left and right one.

I squeezed his erection extra tightly and George mewled out, his head rolling back against his shoulders in ecstasy.

I took this opportunity to get down onto my knees and begin to unbutton his trousers slowly. I pulled them down his legs. His manhood was so warm that I could feel its heat through his underwear, which I also pushed down to his knees.

George moaned out, "o-oh..." when he realised what I intended to do. "L-Lo..."

I gently took his erection in my hand and stroked it delicately, planting a small kiss on the tip to tease him.

He moaned out in delight and pleasure.

I did it again, this time an open-mouthed kiss that was hot. I made sure to leave saliva on his rod. "That feels so - _uh_!" He bucked his hips into my mouth as an automatic reflex as I sucked only on the blunt tip. His length went into my mouth and to the back of my throat, ramming against the muscle there.

I choked, and George tried to pull himself out to apologise, but I stopped him, already starting to bob my head up and down and using my tongue to stroke his cock inside of my hot and wet mouth.

George moaned out, his hands going to my hair and fisting in it. He pulled on the strands there and I whined in painful pleasure, which caused vibrations to cover and run up his cock.

"Lo, I'm n-not going to l-last!" George cried out as he bucked his hips into my mouth once more. I purposely let my teeth trail along his length as he did this, and that was enough for him.

George's pulsing cock exploded down my throat. I tried to swallow it all, but there seemed to be a never ending stream of it, and I couldn't manage it. When I dropped George's now-flaccid member from my mouth, my jaw ached and I spat the rest of his fluid onto the grass to the side of us. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood up, looking into his eyes as best I could in the darkness.

I leaned back against the tree and took a few deep breaths.

"S-so how do I m-make you, y'know?" He gestured to my core before continuing to tuck himself back into his trousers. Little did he know how my cunt was clenching for him.

I just kissed his cheek, "don't worry about it, Geo." I replied. "We've got time... mind walking me home?"

George replied, "sure." And then he took my hand in his and led me out of the forest, the two of us talking quietly to avoid drawing the security guard's attention to us again. We seemed closer than ever.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

I scrambled up the stairs and to mine and Paul's room. When I got in, I saw my brother asleep in his bed, his breathing shallow and his snores very quiet compared to how loud they usually were.

I assumed it would be safe to get changed because he wouldn't wake up, so I quickly undid the buttons on the front of my dress and stripped it off, pulling one of Paul's shirts on over the top because I was too lazy to root around in the darkness for my pyjamas, which I had thrown off earlier that morning in a rush to get to school - and to meet George downstairs.

"So?" Paul sat bolt upright and I shrieked in surprise. He chuckled and reached over to his bedside table, switching the little lamp on.

"Paul!" I hissed. "You can't do that!"  
"Why not?" He asked me. "I waited until _after_ you were changed to turn on the light, so it's fine, right?"  
"You scared the living shit out of me!" He chuckled. "It's not funny! You could have done some serious damage - what if I fell over and hit my head, or something?"  
"I'd have laughed, then got up to check if you were okay, and then once I found that you were overreacting, I'd have laughed some more. Then I'd probably tell dad that you might have a concussion."

I scowled at him.

He patted the bed beside him and I sighed. I crossed my arms against my chest, but my brother pouted, giving me puppy dog eyes. I hated him for having such gorgeous eyes, because he always got what he wanted as a result.

I sighed again and got into the bed beside him. He pulled the covers over me and then used his arm to prop himself up. "So?" He stared at me in the dim light provided by the lamp.

"So what?"  
"Did you lose it?"  
"Ew, Paul!" I exclaimed, "gross!" I paused, "and that's none of your business, anyway -"  
"Ah ha!" He yelled, "so you did!"  
Dad called up the stairs, "you two need to go to bed, or you won't be able to get up for school!"

"Going now, dad!" Paul and I chorused back. I switched the lamp off and settled down beside Paul.

"Did you really lose it, Lo?" Paul asked me more quietly as he wriggled around next to me to get comfortable.

"No, Paul -"  
"Would you lie to me?" He asked me, still suspicious as to whether or not I was telling the truth.

"Probably not." 

My stomach rumbled and there was a knock at the door at the same time. Paul and I both sat up, and my brother reached behind me to switch on the light. 

"Can I come in?" It was dad, and he had pushed the door open a little but was waiting for our permission to enter.

We nodded, and Paul spoke, "sure, dad."  
Dad came into the room and was holding a plate of chicken and mash with broccoli in one hand. He sat on the edge of Paul's bed, which we were both in.

"You hungry, Lo?" He asked me. I nodded. "I know I said that you need to go to sleep, but I didn't want you to starve. Just eat and then leave the plate on the floor and bring it down in the morning." He kissed my forehead, "night, baby. Night, Paulie."  
He hadn't called me that before, but I loved it. It made me feel even more loved than I did usually. Paul and dad and Mike had done so much to accommodate me, and I would be forever grateful to them.

"Night, dad." We chorused and then dad left, and I dug into my dinner using the cutlery which dad had bought up on the plate.

"It's rare he lets anyone eat upstairs, so you'd better enjoy it while it lasts." Paul told me as he nicked a piece of chicken. I giggled and tried to take it back from him, but I didn't mind much. The less I ate, the less weight I would gain, and the better I would look for George.

When I had finished - and Paul had eaten almost as much of my dinner as I had - I put the plate down onto the floor and pushed it under the bed so we wouldn't tread on it when we got up the next morning. I laid back down and Paul turned off the light.

"Night, Paulie."

"Night, Lo." He wrapped his arms around me and I sighed in delight. 

This was family.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

The next morning, I woke up to Paul's tongue against my cheek - _licking_ me.

"Ew!" I exclaimed, practically rolling out of bed to get away from him, "Paul! What are you -"  
"Get up, Lo."  
"What? Why?"  
"Busy day at the Cavern." He shrugged as best he could because he was lying down, "Geo'll be there... maybe he'll tell me what happened last night -"  
I playfully slapped my brother's shoulder. "You leave George alone, bully."  
He chuckled, "I just want -"  
"It's none of your business. Do I want to know what you've been up to with girls?"  
_Definitely not. After what Grace told me about you and Dot and all those other girls..._ I didn't speak my thoughts aloud.

"O'course not," Paul climbed over me to get out of bed. I noticed that he was just in his boxers and I blushed.

"Paul!" I exclaimed, covering my eyes before he had a chance to continue with what he was saying.

"What?" He was halfway to the bedroom door.

"If we're going to share the same bed, at least put trousers on!"

He shrugged, "you've seen George's -"  
"I have not!" I insisted, though I knew it was only partially a lie.

_It was dark, so I couldn't see much - but from what I can remember, I am one lucky girl..._

I wiggled my jaw around a little, surprised that it ached because I had never heard of that happening after a... well, what George and I did last night.

"Lo, did you and George...?" Paul came back over to the bed, "I just want to know in case there's a chance that you might be pregnant -"  
In a strop, I got out of bed and strode over to the door, avoiding looking at him. "Paul, on this one occasion, can you just keep your abnormally sized nose out of somebody else's business?"

He huffed, "my nose isn't -"  
I didn't hear his reply because I closed the bathroom door to have a wash.

* * * * *

I washed last night's plate up and ate breakfast before Paul even made it down the stairs. After an hour, I was wondering where Paul was, so I made my way back upstairs and into our room. Paul was nowhere to be seen. I sighed and went to Mike's bedroom door. I knocked on it and my little brother asked, "who is it?"  
"It's Lo. Can I come in, Mike?" 

He opened the door and smiled at me. "Morning."  
"Hi... have you spoken to Paul this morning? We had a bit of an argument earlier, and -"  
"He's not happy with you." Mike bit his lip.

"Why?"  
"Because you wouldn't tell him what happened with George -"  
"What do you know about me and Geo?" I asked curiously, but also slightly annoyed that my little brother knew so much about my life. This morning was my first taste of what having real siblings was like; the odd argument and a little brother who loved to stir the trouble.

"Not much... Paul was just annoyed cos he says that he cares about you and 'e doesn't want any secrets -"

"Then he shouldn't be keeping any." I huffed, crossing my arms against my chest. I took a deep breath to calm down so I wouldn't bite Mike's head off, "look, has he left already?"

"He said he'd see you at the Cavern."

"But -"  
Mike closed his door and I just stood in the middle of the hallway, wondering what I had done to offend him.

And Paul.

I didn't think that I was _that_ out of order for asking Paul to keep his nose out of my business, but apparently I was.

Tears began to form in my eyes, and as they began to fall, there was a knock at the front door. I wiped my eyes, sniffled, and then hurried to go and answer it.

It was John.

"Hey, Lo," he said, ducking into the house immediately and stopping after he had closed the door. He looked at me. "Have you been crying?"  
I shook my head. "No."  
"Liar." John gave me a kind smile and then pulled me into his arms. "Paul's a dick. He told me what happened. He shouldn't have asked you anything about you and Geo, but -"  
"You're not going to ask, are you?"  
"I was going to say that he cares about you, is all, Lo."

I sighed and let John hold me for another minute. After that, I pulled away.

"So he sent you to come and get me?"  
"Nah," John replied, "I ducked out after he told me what happened. Thought you might need a friend -"  
"I do." I told him honestly.

"Let's get a move on, then."

Jokingly, John offered me his arm. I took it, and called over my shoulder to Mike, "bye! Be back later!"

**Paul's POV**

George hurried into the Cavern with his guitar hanging over his shoulder. I had no idea where John had disappeared to, but now we had three-quarters of a band and we were down one female.

"Bit late, Geo -"  
"Mum didn't wake me up." He replied breathlessly. "I had to run for the bus, and then run all the way here -"  
"Let's take a walk." I walked past him, expecting him to follow me. He did.

I took him out of the back entrance of the Cavern, and then stopped when I was in front of one of the walls which made up the alley.

"E-everything okay, P-Paul?" George stuttered when he realised that I wasn't acting like my normal self.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes momentarily. I _loved_ George. He was like a brother to me - but I loved Charlotte more, and I had to make my feelings about the two of them very clear.

"What did you and Charlotte do last night?"  
"W-we went to t-the p-picturehouse..." George trailed off, blushing. I knew that he was lying, just as I knew that Charlotte had been last night when she had pretended that I was overreacting.

"And what else?"  
"W-walked through S-Strawberry F-Fields -"  
"George, don't lie -"  
"I'm n-not..."

 _Liar_ , I thought, but I didn't press him on it any further. 

Instead, I said, "George, yer one of my best mates, but Lo is my _sister_. That puts 'er ahead o' you, got it?" He nodded. "That means that if ye 'urt 'er, I'll break both yer arms an' 'ave yer thankin' me fer it." My accent came out thick and strong as I threatened him - something which I thought I would never have to do.

"R-Right, Paul..." George stuttered. "B-but I'd n-never 'urt 'er -"  
"You better be sure o' that." I turned and walked back into the Cavern through the way that we had come.

Lo was there when Geo and I returned, John beside her. The two looked quite close; their arms entwined, and by the way that George tensed up beside me, I knew that he didn't like it.

But when Charlotte saw him, that all changed. "George!" She exclaimed as she let go of John's arm and bounded over to George, throwing herself into his arms. He caught her and she wrapped her legs around his middle. They looked so in love with each other that it brought a smile to my face. I liked seeing Lo happy.

She then disentangled herself from him and he set her down on her feet again. Charlotte looked at me and then slowly approached me, as if she didn't know what my reaction would be.

"I'm sorry about this morning, Paulie." She said quietly, the rest of the boys going to the stage to give us some time alone.

"So am I." I admitted. "I was sorry as soon as you went into the bathroom, but I was angry. I worry about you, Lo, is all."  
"I know." She told me. "And nobody's ever worried about me like you do, so thank you... but I'm not a kid, Paul. I don't want to know about what you do with the girls who _aren't_ Dot in the closet at school -"  
My mouth fell open. "How did you...?"

"Talk, Paul." Lo replied. "People talk, and they talk about you. If you're not interested in Dot, then break up with her. Don't _cheat_ -"  
I interrupted, "you're right, Lo."

"I know."  
"I'm going to tell Dot tonight. I don't want to be with her anymore."  
"Paul, that's not what I -" she cut herself off, "y'know what? Never mind. Just don't be cruel."

" _To a heart that's true_ -" I sang in my best Elvis impression.

My little sister giggled, and I looked to the boys on the stage - all of them were smiling at the sound of her laughter, which seemed to brighten up the room.

"Come 'ead, lad!" John called from the microphone, his voice echoing throughout the club, "let's start, or we won't be ready for lunch!"

"Take a seat, cos we need our biggest fan." I said to Lo, and she did just that. I hurried onto the stage and grabbed my Hoffner, and we broke into the first song of our set.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dot came to the lunchtime show. I saw her before I got a chance to talk to her, and then I had to watch her and Charlotte talking and dancing together for over an hour with the knowledge that I was about to end our relationship; which had endured so many ups and downs, twists and turns - and Dot would never understand why.

At the end of our set, we all set our instruments down and left the stage, going straight to the bar to get ourselves a drink before we mingled with the crowd.

The regulars were there; both boys and girls - some from school, some friends of John at his art college, and some who had nothing better to do on their lunch hour. They all greeted us with a smile and kind words on the set. Those who didn't come _as_ regularly told us that we had honed our skills in Hamburg, from which we had returned just a few weeks before I had met Charlotte.

When I got to my sister, I asked, "where's Dot?"  
"Saw you were coming off and wanted to get you a drink from the bar -"  
"But I already _have_ a drink." I held up my pint of beer, "see?"  
"I know," Lo replied, having to raise her voice in order to be heard above the loud sound of the lunchtime crowd in the pub, "but she means well. Do you really have to break up with her, Paul? She's sweet, and I like her -"  
"Well _I_ don't." I told her, not unkindly. "You can still be friends with her -"  
Lo replied, "no I can't be, because you're my brother and I'll stand by you." A few seconds later, somebody tapped me on the shoulder and I turned.

Dot was standing there.

"Hey!" She beamed, leaning in to kiss me, but I moved out of the way so her lips brushed against my cheek. She stood back. "Have I done something, Paulie?"

"Dot..." I put a hand on either of her arms to put some distance between us, but also so that we were that little bit more intimate. I had, at one point, been about to start a family with Dorothy Rhone, and she would always be special to me - but I wanted different things now than I had then. Now I wanted Lo in my life, and I wanted to be the caring older brother that she deserved - and I couldn't do that with Dot hanging round my neck.

"Oh God..." her baby face crumpled up and she began to sob. "Paul, don't..."  
"I'm sorry, Dot -"  
"Please don't break up with me, Paul. I _love_ you! We were going to be parents, I -"  
Lo just looked between the two of us, obviously trying to stay out of it, but at the same time there was pity in her eyes for Dot.

"Dot, I think that we've grown up a lot since we were first together, and I think that we both want different things, now. In fact, I'd even say that we're two different people, now."

"B-but... Paul..." she wailed, "I only want _you_."

Lo bit her lip and put her arms around Dot, pulling my now ex-girlfriend's head onto her shoulder. "Just let him go, Dot," she cooed, looking at me over the top of Dot's head and winking, "he's a wanker, and we both know it."

 _Harsh words_ , I thought, but I knew that Charlotte was just trying to free me from the confines of Dot Rhone.

Dot took several seconds to gather herself on my sister's shoulder, and then she stood up straight and strode off, exclaiming, "I never want to talk to you again, Paul McCartney!" And then she hurried out of the Cavern Club.

When she was gone, I looked at Lo, "thanks for that. The girl's obviously in love with me -"  
"So were you with her, once upon a time." Lo replied, "and you're not a _complete_ wanker."

"Oh, well, thanks." I replied sarcastically.

"Your welcome!" She turned to the boys, who were gathering on stage. "You're up!" She exclaimed, gesturing to the others, who were gathering their instruments.

I thanked her for reminding me and then dashed to join my friends.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	31. Chapter Thirty

**Charlotte's POV**

"So you see, Mr Epstein," I said as I followed the manager of the NEMS record store around the aisles, trying to memorise the layout as best I could whilst I explained about my connections with music, "I've been around music for a lot of my life. My stepdad loved American groups - since that's where I grew up, so we didn't really get a lot of English records over there - and my brother, Paul, is in a band that plays at the Cavern and in some of the local clubs."  
"Your brother?" Brian Epstein echoed. 

I nodded, humming in reply, "he's really passionate about music. He, my boyfriend, and their friends John and Pete want to make it big."

"Are they any good?"  
"Well," I said, "they've been over to Hamburg a bit -"  
"Excuse me?" Both Brian and I turned to see who had spoken. It was a young lad, about the same age as John, so a few years older than me.

"How can I help?" I asked brightly, desperate to impress Brian and get the job of my dreams - and Paul's. He had told me earlier that day at school that he had always wanted to work at NEMS, because staff received a discount on the records there - and then John (who had snuck in for a lunchtime rehearsal session) had reminded Paul that the simple 'five finger discount' applied everywhere he went.

I had had to ask what the five finger discount was, and I had been appalled.

My brother stole, and so did John. George said that he didn't usually, but if there was something that he desperately wanted then he would.

"Have you got the new Beatlerecord?"  
" _The Beatles_?" Brian echoed, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Haven't heard of them, lad. Who're they?"  
"My brother's band." I told the two of them. The boy looked impressed and Brian looked surprised.

"Really?" I nodded. "Do you think you could introduce me?" The boy asked.

I shrugged, "sure. Come down to the Cavern Friday night and find me in the crowd."  
The boy thanked me and then asked again, "do you have the record? It's _Ruby Baby_ , with Tony Sheridan -"  
"A German pressing." I finished. "Paul told me about it. I know. They recorded it in Hamburg."  
Brian continued to look impressed with me before he snapped back to reality and turned to the boy, "I'm sorry, but we don't have that record. I'll head over to the Cavern on Friday evening, was it, Charlotte?" I nodded, confirming what he had asked. "Well I'll head over and see if they're any good, and if they are then I will order some singles in, okay? Pop back over the weekend for the verdict."

"Thanks!" The boy chirped before he turned and hurried out of the store. When he was gone, Brian turned to me.

"Welcome to the NEMS family, Charlotte McCartney."

* * * * *

Friday night after the show, I was backstage with John, Paul, George and Pete. We were talking and drinking, all of us smoking a cigarette which we held in the same hand as our glass.

There was a knock at the door, barely heard over the top of the sound of the night's second band onstage.

Pete, who was closest to the door, went over to open it. I recognised who was standing there immediately; my new boss, Brian Epstein.

"Brian!" I exclaimed excitedly, immediately getting up from underneath George's arm, which he had draped across my shoulders, and going over to the door. I greeted him with a smile before I turned back to the boys. "Boys, this is my boss, Brian Epstein. I told you he'd be attending tonight."

"Oh aye," John agreed, looking at Brian. The two locked gazes and Brian blushed very quickly, turning his head away from John long enough to regain his confidence. "Well then, Eppy -"  
"Mr Epstein -" Brian tried to correct him, but John didn't listen.  
" _Eppy_ ," John insisted, taking a long drag from his cigarette before he finished what he had started saying in the first place, "what did you think of the show?"  
"Very good, boys." Brian came further into the room. I followed him and went to sit back closely beside George, gesturing for Pete to close the door to the dressing room. He did, and Brian then continued to talk. "In fact, I was so impressed that I would like to manage you."  
"Manage _us_?" Paul echoed in surprise and curiosity, a hint of excitement in there, too.

"That's right." Brian said, throwing a glance at Paul before going back to focus on John. "Have you got a manager?"  
"We got Allan Williams, but he doesn't do much." John drawled, blowing smoke in Epstein's face purposely.

"Right, well," Epstein blew the smoke away from him before he continued, "I'll speak to him... but would the four of you be content with me managing you if he gave his blessing?" The four boys nodded and Epstein said, "I'll let you know what Williams says." He then turned and let himself out of the room.

Like a flock of sheep, the three boys then turned to John, their leader. "Where are we going, lads!?" John exclaimed excitedly, showing his true feelings now that Brian, who I knew John would regard as an outsider, was gone.

"To the toppermost of the poppermost!" The four of us chorused, even though I wasn't technically part of the band.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

**_26th August 1963_ **

I was beside my brother as we walked out of the court. "You're a stupid idiot, Paul." I grumbled.

"Why?" He asked, "I thought that was a pretty good outcome -"  
"You got a _one year_ ban from driving, Paul!" I yelled at him, losing my shit. "How the fuck are you going to get around now?!"  
"Hey," George said as he came up behind me and put a hand on the small of my back, immediately calming me down. "Don't stress."

"But -"  
He pressed a soft kiss on my cheek as we all continued walking, "you know what'll happen -"  
"A fucking year, George!" I yelled.

"George is right," John agreed, appearing on the other side of Paul, "and -"

"Shut up, John."  
"But I'm an expert in all things baby." John paused, "I have one, remember?"  
"And so will we in a few months -"  
"Uh oh," Ringo said as he came out of the bathroom and joined our lineup. "Poor baby -"  
George elbowed him and we all stopped by the front doors of the court.

I turned to my brother, "you ready?"  
He nodded, "it'll be fine. It's just a ban. Nothing major -"

John and George pushed the double doors open and we all stepped out.

* * * * *

George and I had never... _consummated_ our relationship. Not in the literal sense, anyway. We'd done oral - both giving and receiving. We'd fingered, we'd touched and everything in between (even once taking it up the backside, but I hadn't been a huge fan of it) - but we'd never actually had _sex_.

But we had decided that tonight was the night.

And what's more, we'd decided that we were going to try for a baby.

It wasn't particularly that we hadn't _wanted_ to have sex - there had been times when the two of us were so turned on that our bodies ached for the other and our cheeks blushed with everything that we wanted to do to the other one.

But we had refrained.

We weren't sure why, but it had never felt like the right time.

When we got home, George immediately guided me over to the settee and sat me down. "Baby..." he said, getting down on his knees and untying my shoelaces before pulling each shoe from my foot, "you can't stress like that. You'll get a migraine -"

"He's such an idiot, Geo!" I cried, tears pouring from my face. They had been hot and begging to be set free all day, but I had not let them loose. I had held myself together in front of the other boys, even though they had all seen me cry before - but now that I was home with the one person who I trusted as much as I trusted Paul, I knew that I could let myself go. "He took that stupid charge for me, and -"  
"He did it because otherwise you'd be going to prison, Lo," George reminded me, massaging each of my feet in turn, "you don't have a license. Paul took that speeding ticket to _help_ you -"

"But now _he_ can't drive." I reminded George, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand... and then crying some more.

"He'll live with it." George replied softly, trying desperately to calm me down, "besides, Lo, when the band takes off, he'll just hire a chauffeur."

We sat in silence for a few seconds, George continuing to rub my feet like the perfect boyfriend that he was. I loved our little flat - we'd recently moved to London, and we currently shared a flat with Ringo (but he wasn't home a lot because he loved to dance so spent a lot of time out at clubs). Paul was supposed to be living with us, too, but he'd moved in with the family of his girlfriend, Jane Asher, and lived on Wimpole Street - about fifteen minutes' walk away. John and Cynthia lived in Weybridge, Surrey, with their son, Julian. Julian was just four months old, and the cutest little thing that George and I had ever seen - it was Julian, in fact, who had made the two of us want a baby of our own.

"You're thinking about tonight, aren't you?" George asked me, getting up from the floor and coming to sit beside me on the settee. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his chest. "Baby?" He asked again when I didn't answer.

I hummed in reply, snapping out of my thoughts, "yeah, Geo?"

"Lo, if you don't want to do this tonight then we don't have to -"

"George, I just want a baby." I told him honestly and quietly, turning to him.

"So do I, but -"

"I just..." I sighed, "you and the boys spend time in the studio, and I feel so alone. I don't _like_ Jane. She's too stuck up. I don't want to spend time with her."  
"What about Cyn?"

"She's nice, but she's in Surrey, and Julian is _her_ baby. I want my own. I want something to cuddle at night that isn't my pillow -"

"But is it fair on Ringo to have a baby when he lives with us?"  
"We'll get our own place, Geo." I continued, my eyes wide because I was pleading with my boyfriend so much. "We'll get a little house close to the studio and by a nice school for the baby to go to when he or she is old enough -"  
"Do you really want our first time to be because we're making a baby?" He asked me. Not rhetorically, but because he just wanted to clarify.

I nodded, "wouldn't that be a story?"

George chuckled at my words and then nodded. "Alright, Lo. Let's go to bed then, yeah?"

I nodded and he stood up, offering me a hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet, leading me up the stairs and to our bedroom.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two

George pushed me against the door as soon as we were in our bedroom. The door slid shut and I giggled, realising how close we were to finally taking the last step in our relationship. I couldn't _believe_ that it had taken us two years - but that we were finally there.

George's lips were all over my face and my neck, sucking and biting on the soft skin which was exposed by my collar. He unbuttoned my shirt very slowly and then pulled it from my body, gawking at my breasts, which were barely covered in the lace bra which I was wearing.

George dipped his head and pressed soft kisses to each of my nipples over the top of the lace. He then reached behind me and unclasped my bra, helping me to slip it off and then throwing it to the side of us. When my breasts were bare, I looked him dead in the eyes and whispered, "I love you, George."

The most perfect man in the world only smiled at me and then kissed my lips softly - chastely. He was showing me how much he loved me.

"Not nearly as much as I love you, Lo."

I embraced him, and for a few seconds this wasn't about having sex or making love. It was about the two of us being together and appreciating the other for all their flaws and insecurities. George and I were tighter than tight. We were made to last. We'd never had a serious argument, never had to question each other about anything.

"George?" He hummed in reply, pulling away from me just enough that he could look into my eyes, "make love to me?"

A small smile spread across his face as his hands slipped from the small of my back to my trousers. He unzipped them and then pushed the restrictive material down my legs. I moaned a little as he knelt down and pushed them further down. I was wearing only my panties by the time he regained his full height. George's hand kneaded my breasts and I moaned.

"I remember the first time I ever touched these..." he smirked at the memory.

"You ran out of the picture house -"  
He flushed, "I remember the first time I touched them _properly_." He paused, "I thought all my Christmases had come at once."

I giggled and leaned closer to his ear, whispering, "I remember the first time I ever gave you head." He flushed a deeper red as I continued, "You exploded in my mouth and I couldn't take everything..." I trailed off for the sexual tension between us to increase, "but tonight, Georgie, I'm going to take everything and be a good girl - _just for you_."

George stuttered, "o-oh, fuck..." he turned to the bed briefly and then back to me, "Lo, get on the bed. I don't think I'm going to last very long tonight and I need you so badly."

I did as he had told me to. As sultry as I could, I swaggered over to the bed and laid down on top of it, sitting up against the headboard. I then looked across the room at George, who was still standing by the door, though he was trying to get his clothes off as fast as humanly possible. As he slowly walked towards me, a primal look in his gorgeous chocolate brown eyes, I spread my legs so he could see his prize. He was _drooling_ by the time he climbed onto the bed, his erection in one of his hands as he lazily stroked it, bringing himself to the edge before he stuffed me.

"Okay, baby," he said as he lined himself up, slicking himself in the juice of my leaking cunt before he waited for me to give him the go-ahead, "if this hurts, then I'll stop. If you don't want to keep going, then we'll -"  
"George..." I whined, wiggling against him, " _please_ just fuck me."

He smirked, his fangs slipping out from behind his front lip. With that image of him in my mind, George pushed into me and I gasped in delight and surprise, my eyes widening as my legs involuntarily spread wider to allow him more access. The feeling of my boyfriend finally being inside of me was divine.

When he had filled me entirely, he looked into my eyes, "does it hurt?"  
I wouldn't lie to him. I had made that promise to him a long time ago, not long after we had first gotten together. "A little," I admitted. George's eyebrows furrowed and he tried to pull out, but one of my hands on his back was enough to stop him, "but it isn't unpleasant. It's like... like getting into a hot bath - it's a little too hot to handle, but it feels wonderful."  
"So you want me to keep going?" He asked for clarification.

I giggled and nodded, sitting up a little more so I could press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, something which I loved to do.

"I do." I confirmed.

George pulled out of me by just an inch and then pushed back in, continuing to do this slowly and lovingly until I begged for him to go faster. And he did. Within seconds, my boyfriend was pounding into me and making me feel things more deeper than I ever had before.

My walls clenched around him. "G-George..." I warned him.

"This isn't the best, baby..." George took one of my legs and brought it up, hooking it over his shoulder. He then continued to drive himself into me and I screamed, my vision blurring as he hit a spot so deep within me that I had never reached it when pleasuring myself before. I exploded at almost the exact same time as he did, the both of us screaming the other's name as our pleasures mixed inside of me.

Exhausted, George collapsed beside me, the two of us breathing deeply as we tried to regain the air in our lungs.

"I can't believe how long we waited to do that." George said, huffing and puffing. I nodded, giggling in agreement. A few seconds later, George asked me, "what're you doing tomorrow? I have to go and meet the boys and then head to an interview with -"  
"I'll be here," I told him, pausing for effect, "waiting for you to come home and bang me into the mattress again."  
He flushed a deep red. "Maybe the interview isn't _that_ important... there are obviously matters much more important that need attending to -"

"Nice try, Geo," I teased him, turning my naked, sweaty body to face him and then using my hand to prop my head up, "go to the interview and just remember that I'm home waiting for you." I got out of the bed and swayed my way across the room, my core aching as sticky liquid leaked out of it. I actually trembled the first few steps that I took - tomorrow I was going to be very sore, indeed.

But did I regret a single second?

Of course not.

"Like the view?" I asked, teasing my boyfriend as I took my bathrobe from the back of the bedroom door and putting it on.

"I like a lot more than the view." I giggled as he got up and strode over to me, still naked. He wrapped his arms around me and I turned my head to kiss his lips, which were just over my shoulder as that was where he was resting his head.

"What do you want for dinner, Georgie?" I asked him, trying to act as if he wasn't affecting me.

"You." He smirked as I blushed a deep red and swatted him away, giggling once again.

"Chicken pasta it is, then!" I squealed as I darted out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

I heard George hurrying after me, and I could only hope that he had put a robe on in case Ringo had arrived home since we'd gone to the bedroom.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

George woke me up with a soft kiss to my lips and a smirk when he saw that I had gone to bed wearing nothing.

"Hmm," he whispered into my ear, brushing some of the stray strands of hair from my face, "I like you like this..." his fingers danced across my skin, dipping underneath the blanket and getting closer to my core, which was already so wet for him.

My eyes widened as George's fingers stirred my clit, "I like it when you do that to me, George - _uh_!" I cried, moaning as he continued to pleasure me - the best way to wake up.

"I like it when you make that noise -" When we heard the sound of somebody knocking on our bedroom door, he withdrew his fingers from me and put them into his mouth, licking them clean. For a split second, I watched him, mesmerised.

"Are you two up!?" It was Ringo at our door.

"Yeah!" I called, "what's up, Rings?"

"John's here with Cyn and Jules!" He replied, knocking on the door again, "can I come in?"

"No!" George and I exclaimed in unison, but Ringo didn't care. He came in anyway.

"Hey!" We exclaimed in annoyance, as we both tried to cover my bare breasts.

Ringo was wearing only his underpants, and his hair was wet. He had obviously just got out of the shower.

"Ringo!" George and I chorused.

"Put some clothes on!" George added, gesturing to his (almost) naked friend.

Ringo looked down and then back at us, blushing. It was as if he hadn't even realised how little he was wearing. "Oh, sorry, I..." he bit his lip, "I'll go - but shall I -"  
"George..." I complained, bothering him by tapping my hands up and down his bare chest, trying to get his attention. It worked. "Get up and go so Ringo'll leave our room and I can put some underwear on -"

"Oh you haven't got any underwear on..." Ringo blushed a deeper red and then looked down at his feet, "I'll um, just leave now..." he slowly turned and left.

I turned to George, "we _have_ to get a lock for our door."

George nodded, humming in agreement. "Or our _own_ place..."

I smiled, leaning forward to kiss him, "I'll call Eppy later and ask him to start looking."

George nodded again and then sighed, trying to get out of our bed - but I reached for his arm and pulled him back. He fell onto the mattress beside me and chuckled, wrapping his arms around me. "We had an agreement, remember?" I waited for him to continue, "I had to go to the interview and remember that you were waiting for me to," he paused, "what was the phrase?" he paused again, " _bang you into the mattress_."

I giggled, "get going then, Geo, or I don't think you'll ever leave."

George chuckled and got out of the bed. This time I didn't stop him, no matter how much I wanted to.

* * * * *

George gave me a soft kiss on the forehead before he left with John and Ringo. I turned to Cynthia, who was busy feeding baby Julian from her breast.

"Anything up with you and George?" She asked me softly as she wiped some dribble from her son's chin.

I watched her. I watched everything that she did with Julian. I watched every move that she made as a mother and hoped that my time would come soon. I wanted nothing more than to have the opportunity to nurse my own child.

"Nope." I answered, "we're all good."

For once in my life, I was being honest about mine and George's relationship. 

"Why did you think there was something up?"

"You just seemed... I don't know," she paused, taking Julian from her breast and recovering herself, "different with him."

"Oh," I smiled, "maybe that's because we, y'know," I paused, smirking, hoping that she got the message and I wouldn't have to explain it.

It took Cynthia several seconds, but when she understood, she beamed and giggled and jumped up from her seat, poor little Julian being jolted around as his mother celebrated my success - and George's, of course.

"Careful with that baby!" I exclaimed jokingly at her, taking the bundle of joy from her arms and cradling him to my breasts, imagining for a second that he was _my_ baby and not her's. I wanted one of my own so badly.

"You had sex!" Cynthia squealed over and over again as she danced round and round, "I can't believe it! The innocent little Charlotte McCartney finally took the final step and is now as dirty as I am!"

Cynthia was far from dirty. In fact, if you saw her without Julian in her arms, you would assume she was still a prim little lady who went to church and had married her high school sweetheart as soon as they graduated - which wasn't far from the truth. John and Cynthia had married just a few years into college, and before they had both graduated.

"Well I was never exactly innocent, Cynthia."  
She opened her mouth to reply, but a crying Julian cut her off. She sighed, stopped dancing round in celebration and took her son from me to soothe his woes. I wondered what George was doing.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four

**George's POV**

"You're awful quiet today, son." John observed as Ringo drove over to the house that Paul was living in with Jane and her family, the Ashers, on Wimpole Street. John turned in the passenger seat in the front of the car to look at me. "Any reason why?"  
"Nah." I replied, being evasive, which was always the best way to be with John - especially when you had something which you didn't particularly want to talk about.

"Ah," Ringo chuckled as he kept his eyes on the road, "definitely is, then."

"Tell us, lad." John continued to press, "we won't tell anyone."

I looked out the window briefly and saw that we were during closer to Wimpole Street. _If you're going to tell them that you and Charlotte took the final step in your relationship, then it should probably be before her brother gets into the car_.

I took a deep breath, "Lo and I finally, y'know..."

It took John and Ringo less than a second to cotton onto what I was hinting at.

I looked in the mirror and saw Ringo's eyes widen at the same time that John yelled, "no fucking way!"

I winced. "Yeah... and if you shout any louder then she'll hear me, so -"  
"What was it like?"  
"Well you've had sex before, Ringo," I replied, "there was a blonde bimbo walking 'round the flat just last week, so dunno what you're askin' me for -"

"No," John said, "he means what was it like with _Lo_?"  
_What an odd question_ , I thought. _Why is he asking what sex with my girlfriend was like. Why does he care what sleeping with Lo was like?_

"It was good, yeah."  
"Good!" John chuckled, laughing. "Lad, no one says that their first time -"

I blushed a deep red. "Aw, don't embarrass the poor lad, John."

"How did you two know it was my first?" I asked, glad that I had finally lost my virginity, but very embarassed that my two friends knew I was a virgin before last night.

"Just obvious, son." John replied.

"You're very uptight, George -"  
"Me and Lo do _other_ things." I told them, feeling very protective of my masculinity in that moment, "a relationship isn't jus' 'bout sex, y'know -"  
"I'd say that's a good fifty percent of it." Ringo said as he pulled up outside the Ashers' house.

"I'd say closer to ninety." John joked as he got out of the car. He then turned to me and grinned, "don't worry, lad. We won't tell Macca that you fucked his sister."  
I blushed a deep red and John slammed the car door, hurrying up the front steps of the Ashers' large house.

Ringo twisted round to face me in the front seat, "don't listen to him, Geo. You know what he's like when he gets a bit o' power -"  
"He's going to tell Paul..." I groaned, putting my head in my hands and imagining the many ways that Paul could make my life a misery - and all because I had finally done it with Lo.

"I got him!" John exclaimed moments later as he opened the door of the passenger seat of Ringo's car, surprising the both of us because we hadn't heard him coming.

Paul opened the door closest to me and gestured for me to slide over so he could get in. I did that, biting my lip. I wondered if John had told him already, or if he genuinely didn't intend to.

"H-hi, Paul..." I stuttered, trying to maintain a level of normality between the two of us - and failing.

"Hi, Geo." Paul replied brightly. I breathed out in relief. _So John obviously hasn't told you yet, then_. "You okay? Ye seem nervous."

"I'm not n-nervous." _Damned stutter. I wish I could get you under control_. It always gave me away when I was keeping a secret.

"Woh," Paul chuckled as John got into the front seat and Ringo started the car, then quickly pulling away from the kerb and beginning to drive towards the location of that day's interview, John giving him directions using the map which Ringo usually kept in the glove compartment of his car. "You nervous 'cause ye banged my sister last night?"  
I wanted to disappear entirely.

I groaned, "you know?" I asked in disbelief.

Paul chuckled. "I had an idea. John dropped a few hints," I shot him a horrid glare, but John just chuckled. "And then when I got in the car, I knew." He paused, "how does it feel to have finally become a man?"

"I was a man long before -"  
"Sure." Paul smirked. "Hope you were nice to 'er."  
I groaned, sinking lower against the leather seats of Ringo's car, " _Paul_ ," I complained, "please can we not talk about me having sex with _your_ sister, who just so happens to be my girlfriend?"  
Paul chuckled, "does it bother you, Georgie?"

Ringo and John were quiet, though I could see from the mirror hanging from the middle of the roof in the front of the car that they were exchanging glances.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Ringo cut me off, "a'right, Paul, that's enough. Leave 'im alone."

I looked up to the Heavens, silently thanking God for Ringo.

"But -"  
"We're 'ere now, anyway." Ringo gestured to the building of the newspaper that wanted to interview us - the up and coming band from Liverpool, newly moved to London. "So leave yer personal lives in the car and pick up your libidos when you get back -"

"Libido?" Paul echoed. Ringo nodded, looking at Paul in the mirror, "awfully big word for you, Rings. Are ye sure you know what it means?"

"Someone's being bitchy today." John sneered, "what ye pickin' on Ringo for?"  
"I'm not pickin' on -"  
"It's not 'is fault he's got a big nose." John continued, ignoring poor Ringo, who I felt so sorry for. Everybody always made a point of mentioning the size of his nose, or the amount of space which it took up on his face. I thought that it suited him, but didn't dare say anything because I was a coward. It was okay for Ringo to stand up for me against John and Paul, but I couldn't do the same for him. I was pathetic.

"Fans are funny 'bout that, y'know, Ringo." Paul said, picking up on John's teasing and joining in, just as he always did. It was always John and Paul, Lennon and McCartney. I wondered if that would ever change. "They'll pick on a nose -"  
"You pick on a nose." Ringo waved a hand dismissively in their direction and then turned to look at me over his shoulder, "come on, Geo, let's leave these two to their _alone time_."  
I chuckled and followed suit as Ringo got out of the car.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five

We went into the interview like there was no tension between us. John and Paul took to the settee in front of the interviewer, somebody who I recognised from the BBC, but didn't remember the name of, and Ringo and I were forced to stand behind them. My legs ached already because of last night's events with Charlotte, so I hoped that the interview didn't last too long.

"Hello, boys." The interviewer said as soon as the camera had started rolling.

"Hello." We chorused politely.

"How are you feeling today?"

"How are _you_ feeling today?" John retorted in typical John-like fashion.

The interviewer stuttered, having clearly not expected that kind of response. I sighed. _Great, so he's never even heard of us before_. If he had heard of us, then he'd know how we are in interviews. "F-fine."

"Gear." John answered slightly sarcastically, the rest of us staying quiet and letting him do his thing. "So let's get goin' then, shall we?" John asked, "some of us have actual _jobs_ to do -"

" _John_..." Ringo hissed at the 'leader' of our band.

"The boys think I'm rude," John said as he glared at Ringo briefly and then turned back to the interviewer, "do _you_ think I'm rude?"  
"I, uh... uh..."

"Poor little bird's lost for words." John chuckled, "well, let's get on with this anyway."  
"R-right..." The interviewer continued to stutter as he played about with his papers for a few seconds and then coughed, clearing his throat. "The first question... um... your new album is -"  
"Have you ever interviewed anyone before?" John interrupted.

Ringo and I groaned. _Why can't we just get on with this?_ I asked myself silently, wishing that the interview would be over and I could go home to my love.

"Of course..." the interviewer didn't stutter, thank God. His voice was annoying and so was he, and I didn't think I'd last another ten minutes in his presence.

"Doesn't seem like it. All you're doing is stuttering -"  
"If you just let him get on with it, John -"

John cut me off, "what, so you can get back home to your little not-so-virgin girlfriend?" He smirked as if he had won a sick little game - in his mind, he probably had.

I winced. John could be cruel sometimes, but I didn't know he could be _that_ cruel - and in front of the BBC man.

The interviewer was looking gleeful as he scribbled down John's words.

"John..." I was a bright red.

The interviewer turned to me, "and who is your girlfriend, George?" _Wanker_ , I thought, _of course you're not stuttering when you're focusing on me_.

I opened my mouth to give him some sharp, comical quip, but John cut in before I could reply, "Paul's half sister!"

"My sister!" Paul snapped, speaking for the first time since we'd entered the building as he wagged his finger in John's face, Ringo and I looking on in embarrassment and the interview in amusement and interest. Paul hated Lo being called anything other than his sister, and he made sure that she never felt like less of a sibling than Mike. "And be nice to George." 

John scoffed. "This interview is over." He stood up and strode out, the rest of us looking apologetically at the interviewer and then hurrying after him.

"What was that all about?!" Paul fumed as soon as we were all back in the car with the doors and windows closed so nobody could hear the shouting.

"They sent us an idiot!" John yelled back, glaring at the bassist.

"And how is that George's fault?!" Paul shouted, "or Lo's? You don't think before you fucking speak, John, and it never gets you anywhere good!"  
John was silent for once.

I was silent, pensive, even.

Ringo started the engine, remaining quiet but very obviously glared at John whenever he could. We were all beyond annoyed with him.

"What do you think Lo'll say about ye tellin' the world she lost it?" Ringo asked after a while. "John, yer meant to be 'er best friend. She trusts you."

"I could kill ye for it, John." I said, surprising myself. I hadn't even realised how angry with him I was until I had spoken, and I hadn't consciously made the decision to open my mouth and formulate the words. "I'm s'pose ter look after Charlotte and make sure no one hurts her. I'm s'pose ter _protect_ her... but I can't protect her from you."

John was silent - for a change. I was surprised he hadn't come back with some clever taunt for me.

"And when this interview comes out," Paul said, "and Lo reads it, because she reads _all_ of our interviews, how do you think she'll feel? To know that dad will see it, and Mike? That they'll know she's not a virgin anymore? John, you didn't think about the effects of this, did you?"  
John sniffled and my heart softened considerably. I sighed, "ah, Paul," I said, "jus' leave 'im. He knows what he's done."

"But -"  
"Leave it, Macca." Ringo agreed, catching onto what I was hinting at when he looked at me in the rear view mirror and I shot a glance at John's back. 

"She's going to be so fuckin' angry at you." Paul grumbled as he turned his attention from John and struck up a conversation with Ringo and I.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six

**Charlotte's POV**

I heard the car pull up outside of the block of flats earlier than I had expected, but I put some shoes on, dashing downstairs excitedly to greet George... and Ringo, but mostly George. However, four people climbed out of the car. I opened the front door and exclaimed, "hi, boys!"

None of them answered me verbally, instead they all looked dead at John. So there was something going on between them, then... and John seemed to be the centre of it. They all came towards me, none of them smiling.

"What's wrong?" I asked them as George led the way up the stairs and to his, mine and Ringo's flat, having only greeted me with a soft peck on the forehead.

"John's done something stupid." Paul said as he passed me, the last of the four Beatles.

"Doesn't he always?" I teased, closing the door and following Paul up, "he wouldn't be John Lennon if he didn't -"  
"Lo, this time it isn't funny." Ringo said from ahead of us.

We reached the flat and George unlocked it, standing back so we could all go in before he followed us.

"Right," he said, looking pointedly at John and then at me, "we'll all be in the kitchen. You two stay here."

"But -"

"Sorry, Lo, but John has to apologise."

_John has to apologise...? T-to me...? John would never hurt me, would he?_

John was my best friend in the world. I was as close to him as I was to Paul. I considered John my brother, and I had hoped that he considered me as his sister.

When we were alone, I turned to John. "What's all this about, Lennon?" I asked, neither angry nor particularly impressed.

"Charlotte -" I knew this was serious because he had used my full name. He carried on, "I didn't mean for it to be written down or anything. It was just a jape at George, really..."

"What was?" I asked him, beginning to feel the anger bubbling within me, slowly but surely growing and getting to the surface.

John sighed and took a step closer to me, "Lo, I might have accidentally told the interviewer from the BBC that you and George... y'know... last night -"  
"WHAT!?" I exclaimed angrily, turning away from him. "How did you even find out? Did _George_ tell you?"  
_If he did, then I'm going to kill him_ , I thought. Our sex life was private, and I wanted it to remain that way - well, it was out in the open now, anyway, but that wasn't the point.

John didn't answer. It wasn't like him to be quiet, so I turned around... and my heart stopped. John was kneeling on the floor, and he was _crying_. That was so un-Lennon that tears filled my eyes and spilled over, too. I knelt down beside him and put my arms around him. He rested his head against my chest and sobbed.

"John," I said softly, realising that he was crying over more than just spilling mine and George's private life to the press, "Johnny-boy, what's wrong? I've never seen you like this before -" he usually loved it when I used that name for him, because it was one that was private to the two of us... but it didn't stop him from crying. "John, how bad is it?"  
"I-I think I made a mistake, Lo..." he sobbed, albeit quietly so the boys in the next room wouldn't hear him in his moments of vulnerability, moments which were always reserved for me and his Aunt Mimi - even though he would often not take his walls down completely, even for her... I was the one person in the world who didn't judge him, and I never would. I loved John. He was my brother.

"Mistake?" I asked him, "John, whatever it is, we can fix it. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems -"  
I was cut off by his lips against my own. He was kissing me, and for several seconds, I kissed him back... but then I came to my senses. My heart started thudding in my chest, and I could taste his tears on his lips. 

I pulled back and John let out a howl before burying his face in my chest once again.

His tears were soaking through my shirt, but I couldn't bring myself to stop him, or to even speak to him. I wasn't angry with him. I had kissed him back... but I was angry with myself.

"Lo?" John asked quietly.

I hummed in reply, incapable of forming an actual thought after what had just occurred.

"Lo, I think I'm in love with you."  
A tension so thick that it could have been cut with a knife settled over us.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	38. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ringo poked his head round the side of the door, clearing his throat to alert us both that he was there. "Oh," he said in surprise when he saw a blubbering mess on the floor which consisted of both John and myself, "I'll, um... come back later?"  
He went to close the door, but I said, "what's wrong, Ringo?"  
He came further into the room and knelt down beside us. John very quickly pulled himself together and wiped his eyes, and Ringo pretended not to notice the kind of state that his friend was in.

"George wanted to know when dinner would be ready, Lo." Ringo told me, "he said he was hungry, and I offered to come and ask - but I think I'll just tell him to cook it himself -" Ringo went to stand up, but I put a hand on his wrist. His blue eyes met mine and I smiled softly at him, silently letting him know that I was fine... that both John and I were fine...

"It's fine, Rings." I told him, "I'll do it." I slowly disentangled John's arms from around me and stood up, leaving the two Beatles in the living room as I went into the kitchen. The other two; my brother and my boyfriend, Paul and George respectively, were sitting around the little circular kitchen table which took pride of place in the centre of the room, a fresh bunch of flowers in the middle of it.

"Hey," Paul said when he noticed me enter the room. George immediately looked up from the newspaper which he had been reading and met my eyes.

Guilt, an altogether unfamiliar feeling to me, swarmed in my gut and made me feel like I would throw up.

 _I kissed John_.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the thought.

"You a'right, luv?" George asked as I came further into the room and went over to the fridge, opening it to see what I could pull together for the boys' dinner.

I nodded, humming. "I thought there was a fly." I refused to meet his eyes again. Instead, I looked at Paul. "How's Jane?" I asked, obviously trying to divert my attention from John in the next room... and his soft lips.

I shook my head again.

"That pesky fly again, eh?" George teased me, chuckling to himself.

I joined him in laughter, but I didn't feel it. It didn't take over my entire body like happiness usually did. 

_I kissed John_.

I wished that I could take it back, but I knew that the feeling of his lips would forever be burned onto my own. I would never forget it.

 _I kissed John_.

I had been so deep in my own thoughts that I hadn't even noticed that Paul had been talking, answering my earlier question about Jane.

When he finished, I just smiled wryly at him, "that's good." I prayed that he had told me she was fine, because if he had said she was not doing well, then my reply was not appropriate. I actually didn't like Jane, but I wouldn't wish harm on her because she made my brother very happy.

"Lo," George said as he stood up and crossed the room, placing one of his hands on my hip and slowly turning me round to face him. Our faces were centimetres apart, "is something wrong? Are you a'right? Have I done something?"  
I sighed, still not meeting his gaze. Instead, I looked at the love bite which I had left on his neck the previous evening.

I wished we could turn back time and be in that moment again... nothing would ever be the same.

 _I kissed John_.

"I'm _fine_ , George." I told him, actually pushing him away from me, albeit gently.

"Lo?" Paul asked, realising how I was being with George and that there was _obviously_ something wrong. "Do you want to go for a walk?"  
That was why I loved Paul; because he could read me like a book. I wanted nothing more than to talk to him and tell him about the unspeakable thing which I had done, but I knew that I couldn't. To force him to keep it a secret from George, his best friend since their early teenage years, and also to put tension between him and John, who was his equal in ways that even I wasn't, would be cruel and selfish. I couldn't do that.

"I think I'm going to go to bed, actually, Paul." I told him softly, "do you mind?"  
"Not at all," he told me.

"Lo, do you want me to pop my head in in a bit to make sure you're okay?" George asked me sweetly.

I looked at him and felt pain in my heart. How could I do it to him? He deserved so much better than me.

"I'm okay, I think, Geo." I told him, "you and Rings entertain the boys for me, then maybe clean up the kitchen." He nodded. I smiled by way of a thank you then went over to Paul. I hugged him, "night, Paulie, love you."  
"Night, Lo. See you in the morning." Paul smiled and wrapped his arms around me briefly before letting me go and gently pushing me towards George.

I went over to him, "night, Geo..." he leant down to kiss my lips, but I turned my head and he caught my cheek. I dashed off into the bedroom, calling out a quick "goodnight!" to John and Ringo, who were still in the living room.

When I was alone in mine and George's bedroom, lying on our bed, I stuck my hand up my skirt and into my panties, thoughts of one person clouding my mind... a man with slightly ginger hair and a crooked smile. John.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	39. Chapter Thirty-Eight

_Two Weeks Later_

I'd been avoiding him. I'd been avoiding them both, actually. George and John hadn't seen me since the day after the BBC interview. The next morning, I had woken up and taken the earliest train I could back to Liverpool with the excuse of seeing dad and Mike, but the intention of avoiding both George and John.

George had been phoning nonstop, of course, but dad and Mike always answered, and they always told him that I wasn't there; that I'd gone on a little holiday with some girl friends... but George still phoned every night to ask if dad had heard from me and to enquire as to how I was doing.

My actions were killing me, but I couldn't face George.

I had had two weeks to think about John and my feelings for him. Why had I kissed him back?

The answer was simple...

I loved him.

And as sick as it made me feel to say that, it was a simple fact, and I knew that I couldn't cheat on George (anymore than I already had). Whether emotionally or not, cheating was wrong... and so I had come to a simple conclusion.

I had to break up with George.

"Dad?" I asked as I came downstairs wearing one of the pyjama sets which I had left here before we had all moved to London. Dad was in the kitchen, but when he saw me appear in the doorway, he beamed.

"A father never tires of seeing his children in his house, Lo," he told me as he plated the breakfast and gestured to the stairs so I would call Mike down. He was probably still asleep, but I called him anyway. I then went back into the kitchen, "I only wish that Paul would come home for a bit." He furrowed his eyebrows, "he grew up so fast. You both did. And Mike, of course, but he's still here, so I don't need to miss him." I sat down opposite dad and just smiled, "Lo," he said, and somehow I knew what was coming next. I braced myself, "what happened in London...? Was it something with George? He's a nice lad, I'm sure 'e didn't mean it -"

"It wasn't with George, dad, but it does involve him." I sighed and looked down at the egg which dad had cooked for me - sunny side up, just as mum always had. "Daddy," I said, "I kissed John."  
"John?" Dad exclaimed in disbelief, but quietly so Mike wouldn't hear if he were coming down the stairs. "John as in _John_ _Lennon_?"  
I nodded, feeling tears cloud my vision. This had happened multiple times since I had come back to Liverpool, but only ever in the private of the little room which I used to share with my brother. I missed the days when we'd been two school children at the Inny... life had been so simple.

"Daddy, I kissed John, and now I have to break up with George -" I cried, but he cut me off.

"Darling, if it didn't mean anything -"  
"But it did!" I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hands as I wiped my tears away, "dad, it meant something! God, he... he's my best friend... but I think that I love him!"  
Dad didn't know what to do, I knew that. I wanted him to comfort me, but at the same time, I knew that he wouldn't be able to do it like Paul did. Paul _always_ knew what to do. I wished that I had taken him up on his offer for a little chat in the middle of the flat which I shared with George and Ringo.

"Lo, I'm going to phone Paul. Stay here, finish your eggs." He didn't attempt to stop me crying, but I was grateful that he was going to call Paul, because I trusted Paul more than I trusted anybody.

**Paul's POV**

We didn't know where Lo was. We didn't know why she had disappeared so suddenly, and we didn't know why she wasn't calling us. Was it something I had done? Had George done something wrong? Or was it simply that she was angry with us for letting John spill everything about her's and George's relationship to the BBC?

A knock at my bedroom door in the Ashers' attic knocked me from my thoughts. "Paul?" It was Jane. My gorgeous girlfriend poked her head round the side of the door gingerly, a little smile on her face as she said, "the phone's for you."

"The phone?" Nobody ever rang me at the Ashers'. Even the boys didn't. They usually just showed up without an invitation. "Who is it?" I asked her.

"It's your dad." She paused, "he said it's about _Charlotte_." She said Lo's name very pointedly. Never in our relationship had I heard her call my sister by her nickname. She was always Charlotte to her.

"Oh," I said, "a'right, Jane, thank you..." she went to leave, but I asked, "do you want to go out for dinner tonight?"  
She beamed and nodded eagerly, squeaking excitedly as she hurried down the stairs and back to the main part of the house.

I took the phone from Mrs Asher - Margaret, as she had told me to call her - she smiled at me by way of a greeting before she strode off to prepare for her next student. 

"Da?" I asked.

"Took you bloody long 'nough, Paul." Dad snapped at me, which was very uncharacteristic of him.

I didn't hold it against him. I asked civilly, "is something wrong?"  
"I've got Lo 'ere sobbing like a widow. She's done something, Paul, and she's in bad shape over it -"

"What's she done?"  
"I think she needs to tell you 'erself." Dad answered, "can you come up today?"

"O'course." The memory of asking Jane for dinner was gone from my mind as I thought of my little sister. I hung up and then dialled John. "We're goin' ter Liddypool today." I told him by way of a greeting.

It was early morning, not even 9AM, so he must have been asleep when I called because his voice was clouded with grogginess, "what? Why?"  
"Lo's at dad's and I'm s'pose ter be goin' up there." My accent always grew thicker when I was emotional.

"What 'bout George?" John asked in a slightly bitter tone, "why don't you take 'im? Ye don't need me -"  
"A'right, I will -"  
"No!" John exclaimed, "I'm gettin' dressed now, stop by on your way. See you in a bit." And then he put the phone down.

 _That's weird_ , I thought, but I didn't question it. I put the phone back on the hook and turned around, squeaking in surprise when I saw Jane standing there.

"How long have you been there?"

She shrugged, "long enough." She paused, "dinner's off tonight, isn't it?" She didn't sound surprised, and I felt bad... but family came first, and Lo was always my priority, whether I was with Jane or not.

I went over to her and gently kissed her lips, keeping it simple and chaste in case her father or mother walked in. I didn't care about her brother, Peter, walking in on us because he had done so before. "I'm sorry, Jane," I told her as honestly as I could. "It's just -"  
She sighed, "Charlotte comes first." She finished for me, looking down at the floor. "I know... and I'm not surprised. It'll never change for you, Paul, will it?"  
"She's my sister -"  
"And I'm supposed to be your girlfriend!" Jane snapped, though not loudly enough for the argument to be overheard. "You _live_ with me... _I_ should be priority. Without me, Paul, you'd have nothing -"  
"Without Lo, I'd be _no one_... and that's a thousand times worst, Jane." I turned away from her, angry and unable to look at her because of how selfish and jealous she was being. That wasn't the Jane that I knew and loved. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'll stay at my dad's tonight." I went to the front door and took my car keys before leaving. Jane watched me, but we both remained silent.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	40. Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Charlotte's POV**

There was a knock at the door and I sighed, turning to Mike. "Get that."  
"You." Mike replied, chucking a few raisins at me. He'd been munching on them as we laid in the living room, the both of us on our backs on either settee, just listening to the radio which dad had set up in the corner of the room. Mike had just broken up with his girlfriend, so he was not feeling great either, and was exactly where I was going to be as soon as I saw George again and ended things between us.

"I'm having a quarter life crisis, _Michael_." I told him, picking up the same raisin from where it had landed on my chest and throwing it back at him, hitting him squarely in the middle of the forehead, "you get it. You're younger."  
"I'm more -"  
"Somebody open that fuckin' door!" We both jumped in surprise, and Mike's bowl of raisins fell to the floor, scattering its contents across the room. I jumped off of the settee and threw myself at Paul, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as he held me tight. We were always so close; closer than Mike and me were, and I'd missed him the last few weeks.

"Paul..." I said softly into his ear, unable to believe how good it felt to hug my brother and unable to believe that I hadn't called him up to Liverpool before now. I could have felt at least partially healed _weeks_ ago, back when I had first left London.

"John's in the kitchen making tea," Paul told me, "I thought I'd bring him 'long since he's yer best friend an' all -"

"Y-you brought J-John...?" I asked in disbelief, surprise and anger, though not at Paul. I was angry because I was sure that John could work out why I had left London, and yet he had come to Liverpool to see me... to _bombard_ me...

"That a'right, Lo?" Paul asked, gently disentangling me from him, "he usually 'as yer smilin'." His accent always grew thicker when he came back home to the city -

"Tea's ready!" I sighed and buried my face in Paul's chest for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and readying myself to deal with John Lennon and the inevitable reality of our kiss. I took a few steps away from my older brother and he stepped back so John could get in, carrying a tray with three cups of tea.

"Where's mine?" Mike asked, looking at John.

"In the kettle, son," John replied sarcastically, "now 'ead on upstairs before -"  
"Give us some time, Mike." Paul said in a more affectionate way, gesturing with a shake of his mop-top topped head to the staircase in the hallway behind him. Mike sighed and skulked off. Paul took my hand and led me over to the settee which Mike had just got off of, and he pulled me down to sit beside him. John sat opposite us and handed over our teas. When we'd sipped at them and the silence between us felt comfortable, Paul put his tea down on the little table between the settees and asked, "what 'appened, Lo?" His tone was soft and gentle and comforting, and it made me want to curl up into his arms, but for a change, I couldn't.

Because John was staring at me with a knowing look on his face, but he looked as if he wanted to hug me, too.

I turned my head to look at Paul and then stood up, smoothing down my skirt as I chirped, "nothing!" and sprinted into the hallway, shoved my feet into my shoes, and left the house, running until I was positive that they weren't following me anymore.

* * * * *

" _Let me take you down ''cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields_

 _Nothing is real -_ " 

His lips on my neck brought me back to the real world and his hands running up and down my body from behind caused me to inhale in surprise before I shivered, his lips touching the shell of my ear as he leant down and whispered, "is this real enough for you, Lo?"  
John's hands dipped lower and began to trail underneath the fabric of my skirt, getting closer to my panties.

"J-John..." I breathed out, tears slipping down my face as I realised how loudly my heart was thudding in my rib cage and how desperately my core was clenching for him already. His lips were on my neck again, sucking deep purple bruises into my skin.

"Lo," John whispered against my soft skin, "I love you... I love you... _I love you_. Let me do this for you..." one calloused guitarist's finger rubbed my clit through the fabric of my underwear and I moaned, my head falling to one side unintentionally as he increased the circular action and the tension inside of my body began to increase very quickly.

"John, I -" I was cut off by my own traitorous body as it caused me to moan, John's finger slipped under the fabric of my panties and threatened to dip into my already-clenching, dripping wet hole.

"God," he said as he increased his movements, "you're so beautiful like this. I wish I could see your cunt clenching so good fer me." His finger had slipped inside and he was shallowly fucking me with it, lazily even, making sure that I got off but as slowly as possible.

" _John_!" I careened as I exploded around his fingers, whimpering and crying out his name as he fingered me through my orgasm and then brought his dripping finger to his mouth to suck clean. I watched, turning my body on the old fallen tree so I had a better view. His actions were mesmerising.

When he had cleaned it as thoroughly as he intended to, he said, "let's go back to Aunt Mimi's." He held out his hand - the same one which had just been under my skirt - and I took it. He led me back through Strawberry Field and over the fence towards Mendips.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	41. Chapter Forty

I breathed out contently and opened my eyes, smiling for several seconds as the familiar Liverpool morning settled over me. I had not had a morning like this for what felt like too long - with the smog outside, the early morning sun shining through it, and the slight breeze straight off the Mersey... and someone's arm around me.

My eyes widened and I held my breath.

It was usually George who woke beside me - it had always been him, before... but the events of last night at Strawberry Field ran through my mind at a mile a minute.

John.

My eyes watered and tears slipped down my cheeks. I brought my hand up to my face, covering my mouth in disgust, a queasy feeling growing in my stomach. I bit down on my fist, trying to ignore the crushing feeling which threatened to pile itself onto me.

Between my thighs was still sticky, and my legs had that familiar ache that I had only felt once before - the morning after George and I had had sex.

And then I remembered getting back to John's Aunt Mimi's house. I remembered how he had put his arms around me, his lips on my neck and how he had sucked oh so perfectly. I remembered how I had been putty in his hands, and I remembered how he had moulded me. I remembered how perfectly our bodies had fitted together, and how intensely I had orgasmed.

My relationship with George was over. Well and truly over. I had _properly_ cheated on him, I realised with a start, and with one of his best friends. My gaze flickered over to John, who seemed to still be asleep. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself as I silently thanked whatever God there was that he had not woken up yet.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether to sob my heart out to John, or in private, or -

 _Paul_.

My brother would know what to do. I picked John's arm up in one of my hands and removed it from me as gently as I could, ensuring that I would not wake him up. I then got out of bed as quickly and quietly as I could and tiptoed downstairs, not surprised to find that Aunt Mimi was already up and cooking.

"Morning, dear." She said to me brightly as she spotted me coming down the stairs, "sleep well?"

"I, um -"  
"Late night, I assume? Your dad was out?"  
I knew that she would not encourage nor possibly even acknowledge John's cheating on Cynthia, and I knew that she would try to brush it under the carpet.

I nodded, "um, yes, Aunt Mimi." She had once told me to call her that... it had been the morning after my stepfather had died. That seemed so long ago - so much had happened in those two years. The boys had met Ringo and _almost_ made it big... they were on the cusp of stardom, I could just feel it -

"Breakfast will be -"  
"Actually," I said to her, "I need to go. Dad'll be expecting me home, and Paul and Mike are there, so -"

"Oh," she furrowed her eyebrows, "but we haven't had a chance to talk: how is London?"

I just smiled sadly at her, "London is wonderful, Aunt, but I really must be going..." _before John wakes up and notices that I'm gone_. "I promise to come and see you soon. I'll come for a few days, and then we can talk properly."  
"Oh, well..." she bit one of her lipstick covered lips before she said, "very well, then. Be on your way or you'll miss the next bus." She waved me out of the door, and I couldn't help but feel that she was annoyed with me.

But I had bigger problems to deal with.

* * * * *

When I made it to the corner of Forthlin Road, I was surprised to see Paul walking toward me, but from the other end.

"Lo?" He said in surprise as he noticed me.

"Paul!" I ran towards him, wiping my tears before I threw myself into his arms and he held me tightly, making me feel safe... just like he always had.

"Wha's wrong, Lo?" He asked me, gently disentangling me from himself and then leading me to number 20. He took me past dad and Mike, who looked at the tears streaking my face with questioning looks on their faces. He took me up the stairs and into the room that we had shared as teenagers. We sat on the end of what had been his bed, and he tucked his arm around me, pulling me to his chest and making me feel once more like we were two teenagers who had no problems. "Tell me everything."  
And so I told him.

I told him about the kiss that John and I had shared several weeks before, and then I told him that that was why I had come to Liverpool; to escape John and the memory of his lips against my own. At that point, Paul had apologised for bringing him with him, but I had told him that it was fine.

And then I told Paul about the previous evening with John. Everything.

And Paul just held me and soothed me as my entire body rocked with sobs.

And only once I had pulled myself together enough to withstand it, had he said, "I think you need to tell George."  
I knew that he was right, but it was hard to say. I knew that I had to end my relationship with George, and by telling him, I was ultimately doing it. So I just nodded.

Paul left the room to make the phone call.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	42. Chapter Forty-One

The hours which it took George to get from London to Liverpool where the longest I had ever endured. It seemed like every minute, no - every _second_ \- went by slower than the last, and it felt like the only thing to do was to watch the clock.

"How long has it been, Paul?" I mumbled after barely half an hour had passed from Paul hanging up the phone.

"Why don't we go for a walk?" Paul asked instead, ignoring my question.

"Why don't I just kill myself?"

Paul's head whipped round so he was looking at me, and he had a fuming look on his face. "Don't you EVER say anything like that again, Charlotte, do you understand?!"

He'd never spoken to me in that tone of voice before. Not even when we'd had our worst arguments.

"Paul, I -"  
His face softened, "Lo," he said, his voice much more calm and soothing than they had been previously, "Lo, if you died, then I'd want to die, too. Lo, I _love_ you. You're my little sister, and my best friend. You're my reason for living. Please. I need you to promise me that you'll never... you'll never do anything that would endanger your life -"

"But Paul," I replied in a quiet tone of voice as fresh tears clouded my eyes, "I don't understand why."

And then I burst into tears, and Paul crossed the room to hold me... and that was how George and Ringo found us.

Hours must have passed in Paul's arms, but it felt like minutes. I never felt as comforted as I did when I was in his embrace, and I knew that would never change. He was my protector. My guard. 

"Lo?" George's lilting accent shocked me from my sanctuary, and I began to cry all over again.

Ringo, was standing behind George, peered over the younger man's shoulder. "You a'right, luv?" He asked, "we thought yer'd all but run out on us -"

Paul disentangled himself from me and stood up, then offering me a hand and pulling me to my feet, wrapping his arm tightly around me to give me the strength which I needed to cross the room.

"Wha's going on, Lo?" George asked as he stepped out of the doorway into the living room, taking me from Paul. I turned to my brother, desperately trying to cling on to him, but Paul handed me off. "Have I done something?"

Paul looked at me, biting one of his signature McCartney lips and then spoke directly to George, "I think you two should go out for a walk. You need to talk." George looked very worried, furrowing his thick eyebrows. I could almost see the cogs in his brain going round, trying to work out just what he had done wrong.

 _Nothing, George. It's all me_.

* * * * *

For the first time since I had met him, there was an awkward silence between George and I as we strolled down the road, him stopping to talk every so often to a fan who recognised him from the band's days at the Cavern.

"What's wrong with us, Lo?" George huffed out, stopping in the middle of the pavement and gently taking my arm, turning me to face him.

My face was tear streaked and I wondered if it was possible to cry anymore... but as soon as I saw the sorrow, the _pain_ , in his eyes, I cried some more and my question was answered.

"George, I -" I cut myself off as I reached for his face with one hand, stopping in the air. How could I touch him after all that John and I had done last night? I was dirty. I was a monster. I had _cheated_ on him. I looked down at the pavement, exhaling as I continued to cry. "George..."  
"Charlotte." George put his hand on my face and brought my head up so that we could look into each other's eyes. "Charlotte, I _love_ you. Anything that's happened, we can work through. We're in this together -"  
"Except we're not, George." I replied in a voice barely more audible than a whisper, catching him off guard.

"Lo, I -"  
"George," I took a few short, deep breaths as I prepared myself for what was going to come next.

But I didn't have to say the words.

He knew.

"W-would it make you h-happy?" He asked me quietly, tears flooding his gorgeous brown eyes.

I didn't hesitate. I was sure in my decision, but I waited several seconds before I nodded, feeling numb.

"George, i-it's John..." As much as I knew it would hurt him to know, I knew that I couldn't keep the secret from him. I loved George, undeniably, and I always would... but he wasn't my _great_ love.

George was silent for what felt like minutes, but was only really a few seconds. I looked into his eyes again, and I saw that a stray tear was streaking its way down his face. My heart broke. I had never wanted to hurt him, but my relationship with John had come out of nowhere. I had thought that I was doing the best thing by breaking up with him. I _knew_ that I was doing the right thing.

But I was sure that it would take George a while to realise that.

In that moment, I imagined that he was feeling betrayed and hurt, perhaps even angry, and almost definitely confused.

"Lo," he said, meeting my gaze, "I'm always going to love you. You w-were my first everything."

"I know, George," I answered as quietly as he could, "same for you." That was enough. He wrapped me in his arms and we cried together in the middle of the street, not caring about anybody who stared as they passed by.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	43. Chapter Forty-Two

_**Three Weeks Later** _

"What did dad say?" Paul asked as soon as I put the phone back onto the hook. He turned his head away from his acoustic guitar to give me attention when I spoke.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "that he's... _met_ somebody." I sounded incredulous.

" _Met somebody_?" Paul echoed, watching the removal men move the new furniture into the room and arrange it how the interior designer (who was standing in the middle of the room) told them to.

Since I had decided to move out of George and Ringo's flat, Paul had offered to buy me a house - but I had refused. So he had mentioned that he was 'coincidentally' looking for a place of his own, and somebody to take care of it whilst he and the boys were on tour - hence my role in the flawless operation that was Paul McCartney's life.

"Yes," I sat on the settee beside him, taking the guitar and strumming mindlessly on it. "Her name is Angie. Her husband passed away last year, apparently. She has a little girl, too."  
Paul shrugged, taking the guitar back from me, "it won't last -" I elbowed him in the gut. "Ouch!" He shrieked, shooting me a glare, "that hurt -"

"Don't be so cynical." I hissed, though not unkindly. "He deserves to be happy."

"Well -"  
"I've invited them all up for Christmas with us."  
"Christmas?" Paul echoed in surprise, "why?"  
"Because I like family Christmases, and we have the biggest house so it makes sense to do it here." I answered in a tone of voice that implied my answer should have been obvious. Paul just sighed and didn't reply, instead going back to play his guitar. I checked my watch, "I have to go."

"Where are you going?" He asked me nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off of the six strings in his lap.

"To the doctor."  
"Are you ill?" Paul asked me in surprise and dismay, now meeting my gaze. "Do you need me to drive you?"  
"Not ill, Paul." I assured him, "I just need to go for a check up... I'll get a bus, don't trouble yourself -"  
"The driver?" He continued. "Lo, I don't like the thought of you going out by yourself anywhere, especially if you might be ill or have something wrong -"  
"I'm _fine_ , Paul." I reassured him, putting a hand on his arm. He looked down at it briefly and then back up at me. "Better than fine, actually."  
My heart was beating very loudly in my chest. A smile spread across my face before I could hide it and it was contagious. My brother smiled, too.

"You're kidding?" He asked, immediately catching onto what I was silently trying to say - the secret that I had been keeping for several days. "You're sure?"  
I bit my lip, nodding eagerly. "Pretty sure. I, um, missed my period and I've been getting nauseous in the mornings for the last week or so. I think I am, Paul."  
He stood up, putting the guitar on the settee in the seat which he had just been sitting in. He offered me a hand and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.

"I'm driving you."

I couldn't deny him the opportunity to drive me to my check up. 

I nodded. 

Paul turned to the interior designer, "we're going out. When you finish, lock the door and post the key back through the letterbox."  
The man, whose name I hadn't even bothered to learn, nodded and Paul and I left.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	44. Chapter Forty-Three

Paul and I sat in comfortable silence on the way to the hospital, which was a drive of less than ten minutes. He held my hand the entire way, moving both of our hands when he had to change gears and driving with one hand on the wheel the entire time.

He pulled up outside and killed he engine, turning to me. "Are you nervous, Lo?"  
"No." I told him honestly. "I-I think I'm ready for this -"

Paul clutched tightly at my hand, causing my crystal blue eyes to meet his doe brown ones.

"Do you know w-whose it is?"

I bit my lip, shaking my head slowly. "George and I..." I didn't even know what to say.

I was a whore.

I had slept with two men, and now I was pregnant and either of them could be the father.

"It doesn't matter, y'know," my brother said, shocking me back to reality. I hadn't expected him to assure me of that. I had expected him to be angry that I had fucked around - and I expected him to be angry because of the problems which my pregnancy would cause in the band once John and George found out. "Because," Paul said, elaborating on his earlier statement, "as long as they've got a mother that loves them, and their uncle Paul, they'll be fine."

I smiled, throwing my arms around him. A few tears escaped, but I managed to keep most of them back. After we had had our moment, we got out of the car and made our way into the hospital.

* * * * *

"Well, Miss McCartney," the doctor said, "I can confirm that you are indeed pregnant." I looked to Paul, who was sitting beside the bed which I was lying on, my shirt pulled up to the bottom of my breasts. He offered me a kind, excited smile.

It looked like he was as excited as I was.

"Thank you, doctor," I said politely, "that is good news."

The doctor smiled, "congratulations, then. Please schedule an appointment with the receptionist for the beginning of March, and we'll see how you're getting along." I nodded.

"How far along do you think I am?"

"No more than a few weeks, maybe three?" The doctor paused, "the fetus is very small at the moment. I'm surprised that you have had any symptoms at all, to be honest. Most women don't realise that they're pregnant until they're well into their second month."  
I didn't know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that it was John's baby. Was I happy that it was his, and not George's?

"Come on, Lo," Paul said. I was brought back to reality once again by my brother, who was tugging gently on my hand. I nodded and let him help me off the bed. I pulled my shirt down to cover my belly and then smiled at the doctor, silently thanking him once more.

On the way out of the hospital, we made an appointment for early March as the doctor had instructed, and then went to the car.

"So it's John's, then?" Paul said as soon as the doors were closed. I nodded, biting my lip. "Are you happy 'bout that?"

"I don't know, Paulie." I said quietly, "I've got a lot to think about."

"It's okay, y'know, Lo -"  
I turned to look at him, tears falling silently down my face. "It's not, Paul." I whimpered, "I'm a whore. I'm a no-good, husband-stealing, backstabbing whore."

I saw Paul's heart broke through his eyes, but he didn't say anything immediately. Instead, he took me into his arm and held me tightly, kissing the top of my head what felt like a thousand times before he whispered, "you're not, Lo. You're not. You're not. You're not. You're not a whore. You're not any of those awful things. You're my little sister, and in your belly is my little niece or nephew, and I love them and I love you, and I'll always be around for you both, and to remind you what an amazing mum you're goin' to be."

I was now sobbing fitfully. I loved my brother will my entire heart and soul.

"Paulie?" I sniffled, sitting up and pulling out of his arms. I looked at the front of his shirt, now stained with my tears and probably soaking him through to the bone, but he didn't care. He waited for me to continue speaking. "I love you, and um, thank you -"  
"Anything -"  
"But I have to ask that you don't tell John about this - or George," I added after only a moment's hesitation. "I know it's a lot to ask, and unreasonable, but -"  
"I won't tell a soul." Paul promised. He looked at me and gave me an encouraging smile, "come on - let's get you home and into bed, you look like you're exhausted."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	45. Chapter Forty-Four

**_Six Weeks Later,_ **

**_Friday 8th November 1963_ **

I ignored the people walking towards me as I strode down the pavement, shopping bags in one hand and my handbag in the other, my head turned to look into all of the windows of the big shops - the ones that I had read about in the magazines in America when I was just a young girl - I could hardly believe that I was now one of the elite - one of the few rich enough to shop in them!

Well, Paul was, anyway.

He had given me a ridiculous amount of cash and had told me to go and buy all of my Christmas presents for everyone, and some nice bits for myself and for the baby. 

I had bought some newborn baby clothes, but there wasn't an awful lot, and it was difficult to get anything specific because I didn't know what gender the baby was going to be. It was all so exciting, and I was really looking forward to being a mother -

" _Charlotte_?" I groaned inwardly. It was Jane Asher, and she was staring at me with a nasty little grin on her face before she turned sideways to draw my attention to who was beside her.

" _Cynthia_?" I said in surprise.

"Hello!" Cyn enthused, "haven't seen you in ages, how are you?"

"I'm -"  
"Are those _maternity clothes_?" Jane asked, looking pointedly at my outfit.

I looked down at them and then blushed a deep red.

"I, um -"  
"Are you pregnant, Lo?" Cynthia asked excitedly.

I blushed a deep red, and that was their answer.

"So _that_ 's why Paul moved out." Jane crossed her arms against her chest and then turned to Cyn, "I told you they were hiding something -"

Cynthia hushed her before turning back to me, "who's the dad? Do we know him -"  
"Do _you_?" Jane asked, implying that I wouldn't know the father of my own child and therefore slept around - that I was a whore, effectively.

For a few seconds, I had to physically bite my tongue because I wanted so badly to taunt her with the fact that I was carrying a Beatle's child, and she wasn't - I knew that she would have loved nothing more than to become pregnant with Paul's baby - but Cynthia was beside her, and I couldn't.

"Is it George?" Cynthia asked excitedly, ignoring Jane's remark. "He hasn't been the same since -"  
"It's not George." I told her.

"Do I know him?"  
_Better than most, I'd say_...

"I, uh -" I looked down at the floor uncomfortably, trying my best to avoid giving an answer. "Oh, is that the time?" The clock chimed in the distance - Big Ben. "I better be going!"  
I dashed past the two of them (and Julian), and into the first shop I saw, hurrying to the back of it and resting my back against the wall and taking several deep breaths. I closed my eyes, thinking about how close I had just been to blurting it all out to Cynthia - and _Jane_.

If anybody would tell the media, it would be Jane, and that was exactly what I didn't want.

"Excuse me?" I jumped, my eyes darting open as I stood bolt upright and stared at the stranger who was completely dressed in black and had a black flat cap on. "Are you Miss McCartney?" I opened my mouth to ask him who he was, or why he was asking after me, but he cut me off immediately. "I've been sent to collect you by Mr Harrison."

I swallowed.

_George? What could he possibly want from me?_

I nodded, "Charlotte McCartney. Yeah, that's me."

"Come with me, Miss." The man took my bags from me and then turned and led the way out of the shop.

I hurried after him, catching up only as we got out of the shop, "where is George?" I asked.

"At his flat, Miss." The man replied, putting the bags into the boot of the black Austin Princess car parked in front of the shop we had come out of.

"How did he know I'd be here?" The man was silent and I groaned. "He had you follow me, didn't he?" The man was silent and I sighed, "whatever." I opened the door of the car for myself and got in, "let's just go."

* * * * *

We arrived at the flat that I had lived in with George and Ringo. It hadn't changed. If things were different; if they had gone the other way, that is - I could have been on my way home and to George's arms.

I thanked the driver despite the fact that he had not spoken to me for the entire drive, and I made my way up the front steps. I still had my key, but it didn't feel right to use it. I rang the intercom, waiting for somebody to answer.

"Hello?"  
"George?" I said, leaning closer to the bell so he would be able to hear me more clearly, "it's Lo."

There was a slight silence between us, but I could hear him breathing heavily. After several seconds, he said, "come up."  
I heard the door open and I pulled it so I could get through. I went up the stairs to our old flat - God, it was all so familiar. I passed Eppy's flat on the way, and didn't even really think about whether or not he was in there - did he know I was pregnant? Had Paul told him?

Paul - the boys - didn't keep anything from Eppy, even if they'd done something bad. If it concerned the band, then Brian Epstein was informed. Did _I_ involve the band? Did my baby?

"Lo." It was George. He was standing on the door mat outside the flat and he had a wide smile on his face. His soft brown eyes shined and he held out his arms.

I thought about dashing into them and burying my head in his chest. I thought about crying. About breaking down. I wondered if I should tell him everything.

But I didn't need to.

"You're _pregnant_?" He was looking at my slight baby belly, his jaw practically on the floor. "I... I..." 

"George," I said softly as I slipped past him and into the flat, knowing that it wasn't a good idea for the two of us to hug, "it's not what you think."  
"I didn't realise. Why didn't Paul mention it to me?"  
"It's not Paul's place to tell you." I sat down on the settee, suddenly feeling exhausted. I didn't even bother to take off my beige pea coat. George sat closely beside me, and I resisted the urge to shift away. The dynamic between the two of us had changed, but I didn't know if he understood that, or if he even felt that. "And thank you, by the way, for sending the car. Your driver practically saved me from a very awkward conversation with Jane and Cynthia, so -"  
George ignored my thanks and instead asked, "were they being horrible to you?" He looked pointedly at my belly and I guessed what he meant.

"Jane was," I confided, "but she always is nasty, isn't she?"  
George chuckled, nodding, "I don't like her much, either." We laughed, and for a few seconds, it felt like the old days. It felt like we were back in Liverpool at the diner or in the backroom of the Cavern, giggling over something Paul was saying about his latest girlfriend. When our laughter had subsided, he said, "I do wish you'd told me, though... about the baby, I mean -"  
"George, I -"  
"I can't believe I'm going to be a dad. When did you find out? Mum'll be so pleased. What did your dad say?"  
"George -" I bit my lip, looking into my lap as my eyes filled with tears as I tried to formulate my next words, "George... the baby isn't... you're not..."  
"Oh..." The sound from his mouth was like a small exhalation of air, and it took me several seconds to even realise that he had heard me at all and that he had said anything in reply. We sat in silence for what felt like hours. "W-who is, then, Lo...?" He didn't sound angry... or even hurt. Just concerned.

I pursed my lips.

I couldn't tell him.

"Charlotte?"

Uh oh. George never used my real name. He hadn't since we were kids and practically strangers.

"George, I can't tell you..." I said quietly, continuing to look into my lap as tears left paths down my face.

"Charlotte..." he put a hand on my arm, "you're not in any sort of trouble, are you?" I shook my head, still pursing my lips. "Then what could be so bad? Charlotte, I'd forgive you anything, y'know that -"

"I asked Paul not tell anyone -"  
"And he hasn't." George assured me. "I asked you here because I wanted to know if we could still be friends. I _hate_ not being able to talk to you when I need someone, Lo, it's killing me. You were my friend before you were my girlfriend, and I don't ever want to let you go. I love you, Charlotte McCartney, and I always will. I'll always be aroun' for you, and I promise that I won't ever leave you - sure, I might be mad for a while and need a few days, but I'll always come crawling back with my tail between my legs and a bunch of flowers -" he cut himself off, standing up and disappearing from the room for a few seconds before coming back. George stood in the doorway, one hand behind his back and two shiny brown eyes watching me as if I was the most fascinating thing that he had ever seen.

He brought out the most beautiful bunch of white roses I had ever seen, and I smiled despite my tears. It reminded me of the first time he had ever bought me flowers - the night after my stepfather, Kevin, had died.

"Charlotte," George knelt down in front of me, offering the flowers up, "I don't care _who_ the father is. As long as you're happy, then I'm happy, and I'll always be here for you and for your baby."  
I took the flowers from him. I so desperately needed a friend, and I so desperately needed George.

"George..." I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the roses and grounding myself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it, I swear."

"Lo..." I could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, and a little spark of realisation exploded in his right eye. "I-it's John, isn't it...?"

I sobbed, then. I sobbed and George dutifully put his arms around me, pulling my head to his chest and resting his chin on top of my head as he soothed me.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	46. Chapter Forty-Five

**_Christmas Eve 1963_ **

**George's POV**

"Come on, lads." I said as I put my guitar down, "why don't we do something fun?"  
"Like what?" John deadpanned, "Cyn's got a cob on cos -"

 _Because she knows you're not faithful_.

"Why don't we go see Lo?" Ringo suggested. "She lives with Paul now, so it wouldn't just be the three of us and her."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Rings."

 _Because she's pregnant and she doesn't want John knowing_.

She had made that very clear when I had last seen her - over a month ago, now.

"Come on, Geo." John said, jumping at the opportunity to embarrass me, "maybe you'll find some mistletoe." He put his coat on and waved at George Martin in the recording booth, signalling that that was all for today. "I'll drive." And he swept out of the studio, not bothering to wait for Ringo or me to follow him.

**Charlotte's POV**

"Please sit down." I sighed, throwing an annoyed glance at my brother over my shoulder. " _Lo_..." he crossed the kitchen and took the baster from me. "The turkey'll be fine -"  
"But I need to -"  
"You need to _sit down_." He gestured to the chair by the window which he had brought from the dining room for me a few nights ago when we had had exactly the same conversation that we were having now. "You're going to exhaust yourself."  
"I'm pregnant, Paul, not paraplegic." He crinkled his eyebrows at the disability, and I knew that what I said I had gotten to him. He hated me talking about disabilities, and said it might jinx the baby. I said that he was paranoid and being silly, but he wouldn't have it.

He was more protective of the baby in my belly than I was, if that were possible.

"Paul," I crossed my arms against my chest, "I'm only a few months, it's fine -" The doorbell sounded throughout the house and I smirked, " _fine_." I paused, "you finish basting the turkey and then put it in on the lowest heat setting, and I'll get the door." Paul sighed and nodded and I dashed off to get the door.

My eyes widened when I opened the door, my mouth opening and closing as I silently greeted the people who had knocked.

John, George and Ringo.

"I -"  
Ringo and John were staring at my belly, George was just grinning. He stepped forward and took me into his arms, kissing my cheek lovingly. "How are you?" He asked me.

"G-good..." I replied, feeling ambushed. "What is _he_ doing here?" I hissed into George's ear, being very careful to speak quietly enough that only he would be able to hear me.

"I'm sorry, Lo," he replied equally as quietly, "I couldn't stop him. They both insisted, and y'know what he's like when he gets an idea in his head..." George paused, "I have a present for you, by the way, but it's at the flat because I didn't expect to be coming tonight -"  
"You didn't have to get me anything, Geo." He just smiled and then stepped back to stand in line with the other two.

"You're up the duff, Lo!" Ringo declared, stepping forward and crushing me into his chest, though being very careful not to hold me too tightly around the belly.

I laughed uncomfortably. "Y-yeah..."  
"Lo?!" I heard Paul calling from our kitchen, which was downstairs, "who is it?"

"It's the boys!" I called over my shoulder, hoping that my reply had been loud enough for him to hear me.

When I turned back to the three men, John was still staring at my belly.

"Lo..." John said simply, as if he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Y-your -"

"My belly." I put a hand on the bump. It was bigger than it had been when I had gone to see George that day the previous month, but it wasn't large at all.

"Y-you're -"  
"Pregnant." I finished the sentence for him, knowing that he knew what that meant. John, who I had always considered my best friend, someone who was practically a brother to me, was not an idiot and he knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't sleep around.

John was moving slowly in coming to terms with the fact that he was going to be a father again.

Ringo looked between John and I and then let out a low whistle before he turned to George, "drink?"

"I -"  
But before George had had a chance to reply, Ringo had whisked him away and in the direction of the kitchen where Paul and I kept our pitifully small collection of alcohol. That left just John and I.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	47. Chapter Forty-Six

**Charlotte's POV**

"John, I -"

"Who else knows, Charlotte?"

"John -"  
"Charlotte," he said in a measured tone of voice, one that almost tricked me into thinking that he was asking something which he was nonchalant about, "who else knows?"  
I bowed my head, sighing in defeat. "Paul."  
"Just Paul?" John raised an eyebrow.  
I sighed again.

"And George."  
" _George_!?" John exclaimed in surprise and annoyance, "you told _George_ before me!?"

"John, Cynthia knew, and she didn't tell you? I thought you were just being ignorant and disinterested -"  
"As if I'd fucking do that, Lo!" He snapped, "it's _you_. Of course I'd be interested." He ignored the snow which had begun to fall, settling on his shoulders and in his fine red-brown hair. "If I'd known, I would have been round here and demanding to fucking see you!" I winced at his loud tone, looking at him and seeing him visibly soften. "I'm sorry for shouting." The last time John had apologised to me was that day in the flat. "Lo, am I going to be a dad?"

I just nodded, biting my signature McCartney lip and not daring to meet his gaze.

But John caught me by surprise. He stepped forward and took me into his arms, picking me up and spinning me around like we were in a cliche romance novel.

"John," I said softly once he had set me back down on my feet, "you're already a dad." I took a deep breath. "And a husband. What about Cynthia and Julian? _They're_ your family -"

John leant forward and softly kissed my lips, whispering against them, "they're not the family I want..."  
And as awful as what he had said was, it was exactly what I wanted to hear. After that, I was putty in his hands. John took me into his arms again and this time kissed me more passionately, trailing his mouth across my jawline and to my earlobe before he nipped it teasingly and then pulled away.

"I'll file for divorce." He promised me, "and custody. We'll have it all." He paused, "you me, the baby and Julian. We'll get a nice little house wherever you want - right next door to here, maybe - and then a holiday home in -"  
"But -"  
"Lo, I won't let you have this baby without us being together - being _married_. You're... you're everything that I've ever wanted. Always. Ever since the first time I met you outside of your house, the first day that you came to England."

"Okay, John." I conceded, though in truth I had needed very little persuasion. "But I don't approve of you doing this to Cynthia and Julian. B-but my baby needs a family, and -"  
"Our baby will have a family. A daddy who loves them, a mummy who adores them, and a big brother who will always be there for them - just like you and Paul."

It occurred to me then that history was repeating itself.

My situation was very similar to the one which my mother had found herself in twenty years previously, when she was pregnant with me.

She had become pregnant by a married man, just as I had done, and had sought a father for her child. When that child had grown up, they had found their half sibling, and was as close to him as she could be.

My situation was almost exactly the same except the father for my child would be its biological one all the way through, and John and I would probably not be moving back to Liverpool - and, if there was anything I could do about it - I would not leave my seventeen year old child without a mother.

"Tomorrow, dad's coming from home with his new, um, girlfriend," I didn't know what to call Angie, but I opted for the first title which had come to mind, "and her daughter. Why don't you stay here tonight and join us? I could telephone dad and ask him to bring Mimi down with him, too. We can make it our first Christmas as a family."

John smiled, kissing my nose, "I'll stay tonight, but tomorrow I need to see Julian."

I nodded, understanding entirely his need to see his child on December 25th. "Of course. Why don't you go and get him now, and grab some overnight things?"

My fiance (we were engaged, yet) nodded and then kissed my lips once more. "I'll see you in a bit." And then he turned and left the house, not bothering to close the door behind him. I watched him go, my heart beating quickly in excitement.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ **  
**


	48. Chapter Forty-Seven

The next morning, I woke up in a bed with John, a sleeping baby Julian in the bed between us and I realised then and there that that was my future, and it could not come soon enough. I watched the two of them sleep for several minutes before there was a quiet knock at the door. I looked up at the door, saying, "come in," just loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.

It was Paul. He opened the door and his eyes immediately fell on John, who had slept in only his underwear. "He's not naked, is he?" Paul couldn't see John's underwear because there was a blanket covering the three of us; John, Julian and me.

I giggled quietly, not wanting to wake Julian, who had had to be rocked to sleep last night by John because he was so disorientated at his mother not putting him to bed. That had made me feel very guilty, but John had reminded me that we would soon have full custody of Julian, and therefore Cynthia would not be able to put him to bed every night. "No, he's not." I said, mid-giggle.

"Good." Paul let out a sigh of relief. "Dad and Mimi are downstairs with Angie and her daughter, Ruth. I haven't told him about, _y'know_ , yet." He looked at my stomach which was hidden under the covers, "I thought you'd want to do that - he's askin' after you, I told him that you were still in bed but he told me to come get you up."  
"What time is it?" John groaned, sleep still clouding his tone. "Lo!?"

"Shush!" I exclaimed, putting a finger to my lips just as baby Julian jutted awake and began to cry. I sighed, "John," I whined, "you woke the baby..."

"Sorry -"  
I picked Julian up and got out of bed, grateful that I had gone to bed in a nightgown slip dress - whilst it wasn't the most appropriate thing to wear in front of Paul, it was better than walking around in just my underwear. I put Julian against my chest and held him tightly, somehow managing to wrap my dressing gown around us both to keep the early morning December chill from getting to either of us.

"It's just gone nine." Paul looked at the watch on his arm. He was already dressed for Christmas day, which meant that he had probably been up for an hour or so - most likely working on a song, as he usually did in the early mornings.

"There now, baby Jules." I cooed at the still-crying nine month old baby in my arms. I looked at Paul, "tell dad and Angie we'll be down in about half an hour. Warm up some formula for Julian, would you, Paulie?"  
He nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Julian had stopped crying, and as I soothed him, I turned my back on John, going over to the window and looking out. A perfect blanket of white covered everything, and it was almost entirely untouched save the three pairs of footsteps which I presumed belonged to dad, Angie and her daughter.

"I love watching you with him." John said. I jumped in surprise, turning my head to look over my shoulder. John was lying in bed with his eyes on me, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his chest. "I can't wait to see you with our baby."  
"Two children under the age of two." I murmured, "it'll be difficult. Do you think we can handle it?"

John got out of bed and came over to me, wrapping his arms around my middle and pushing his body against my back. I could feel all of him, and I adored it.

"You could handle anything, Lo." I smiled at that. John peppered kisses on the back of my neck and up and down my shoulder blades, and a shiver ran through me. He groaned, "baby, don't tease me -"  
"You were teasing me!" I giggled, turning around so I was facing him, Julian between us. "It's your fault, Lennon!"

John laughed, "I have to deal with the consequences of your actions, now!" He gestured to his erection, which was very visible in his boxers.

"Consequences of _your_ actions, more like." I paused, "take the baby, I'm going to have a quick wash, do my hair and then I'll be back to get changed." I handed him Julian.

"I can't take him like _this_!" He looked at his erection again. "I need -"

"You _need_ to watch the baby." I turned and went into the bathroom.

* * * * *

Twenty minutes later, I emerged. I had done my hair in a plait which started at the top of my head and went down to the middle of my back. I went over to my wardrobe, ignoring John's sultry gaze as I crossed the room. I chose to wear my deep green emerald dress, discarding the thick black belt which I would usually have worn it with. I put on my black pumps and then looked in the mirror, quickly swiping bright red lipstick onto my lips and a layer of mascara to my lashes.

"How do I look?" I turned to John.

"Like a vision." He promised, "but I _really_ need to deal with the problem that you caused, Lo, so if you'd take Jules then -" I took the baby from him and smiled, looking into Julian's little eyes.

"Daddy's being silly." I tickled Julian's belly gently and he giggled. My heart fluttered. 

John smiled, "that's his first, y'know." And then he disappeared into the bathroom.

* * * * *

When John and I descended the stairs about twenty minutes after that, I held Julian. I had dressed him in a sweet little red outfit that John had brought from his and Cynthia's house the previous night. I adored Julian, and when I held him, I could imagine that he was mine. John and I went into the dining room, which was where dad and his girlfriend and her daughter were.

Four pairs of eyes met ours as soon as we came into the room.

"Charlotte!" Dad was first out of his chair, putting his arms around me and then shaking John's hand. "Happy Christmas!"

I returned the sentiment, "merry Christmas, dad." Mimi was hugging John at this point, and she then switched to me, hugging me and kissing my cheek as if I was the daughter she had never had. Well, she had always been fond of me. "Merry Christmas, Mimi."

"And to you, Charlotte -" she cut herself off as she realised there was something between us, and it wasn't the slightly fussy baby Julian, who John took from me to calm. "Is that a...?"

I nodded, very excited and very eager to share the news. "John and I are going to be parents!"  
Dad was silent. He just stared at John. "W-what about George?"

Dad had always rooted for me and George over John. I didn't blame him; it made sense. George was more-or-less my age, with no children and no marriages behind him. John was three years my senior with a (soon-to-be) ex wife and a son.

Paul cleared his throat from behind dad and dad turned, received a glare from Paul before turning back to me. "Congratulations." He said, "I'm happy for you both..."

"Are you getting married soon?" Mimi asked, shocking both John, Paul, dad and myself when she didn't ask about Cynthia or enquire about how their relationship had ended.

John nodded, answering before I could. "In the new year."

Everybody seemed satisfied with that answer. Mimi took Julian from John and cooed at him as dad took my hand and led me over to the dining table, "Lo, I'd like you to meet Angie, and her daughter, Ruth." He gestured to each in turn.

Angie smiled. She was in her early forties, with short curly hair and large glasses and a wide smile. "Lovely to meet you, Charlotte," she shook my hand - the one that dad wasn't holding. "Happy Christmas. Ruth and I got you something for Christmas, I hope you don't mind."  
"Not at all." I replied, "Paul and I got you both something, too." I looked briefly at my brother and saw how confused he looked, though only somebody who knew him very well would have been able to see the confusion on his face. I had got something for Ruth and something for Angie, wrapped them, and then put both Paul's name and my own on the envelope. "Happy Christmas, thank you so much for coming."  
I let go of dad's hand and went over to Ruth, who was sitting beside Paul. I knelt down, my knees clicking as soon as they bent. I winced, but tried to ignore it the best I could. "Hello." I said sweetly.

"Hello." She answered quietly, continuing to nibble on the piece of buttered bread in her hand.

"I'm Lo. I'm Paul's sister. You must be Ruth." She nodded.

"I like Paul." She said, then giggling.

I nodded, "I like him, too." I gestured to John, who was once again holding Julian, "that's John, my boyfriend, and his son, Julian." Ruth smiled at the baby when he put up a fist and accidentally hit John in the chin. An idea formed in my head. "Do you like babies, Ruth?"

She nodded. "I've never been around one properly." 

"How old are you?"

"Five."

I smiled, "I think you're old enough to _hold_ a baby... would you like to?" She nodded and I stood up, using the table to pull myself to my normal height. Once I was standing upright again, I held out my hand to Ruth, who took it and then let me lead her across the room and to John, who was talking to Mimi in the corner. "John, this is Ruth," I gestured to the little girl, "she wants to know if she could hold Julian?" I looked him in the eye, silently assuring him that I would be right beside her and ready to take Julian from the little girl should I need to. He nodded and handed the baby to me. I gestured for Ruth to take her chair again and then I put Julian in her arms, not kneeling down the second time because I wasn't sure if I'd be able to get up again.

"Oh!" Paul exclaimed, standing up and slamming his hands on the table, shocking everybody from their conversations and causing baby Julian to cry. He winced, turning to me, "I didn't mean to make him -"  
"It's fine." I took him from Ruth and soothed him, sitting beside her so she could still coo and awe at him, "he's probably hungry, anyway -"  
"Aren't we all?" John threw himself into the chair opposite me, watching as I held Julian tightly, soothing him until he stopped crying, "brekkie!" And he began to pummel the table with his fists like an idiot.

"John!" Mimi chided, sitting demurely beside him, casting an accusatory glance at her nephew, "stop that! And don't slouch."

Ruth and I exchanged glances and then giggled. John did exactly as he had been told and Paul chuckled. Dad and Angie were still deep in conversation with each other.

"Ready to be served." Paul left the dining room and returned seconds later with a plate in either hand. He put it in front of dad and Angie and then left again, returning once more and putting food in front of Mimi and Ruth before leaving and then coming back with three plates and a baby bottle poking out of the pocket of his trousers. He gave John and me a plate each, put the last plate in front of his seat and then handed me the bottle of baby formula. "Happy Christmas, everyone." Paul paused, grinning for several seconds before he exclaimed, "eat!"

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	49. Chapter Forty-Eight

"Ruth, this is from Paul, John, Julian and me." I put the wrapped present in her little hands and watched as she grinned and then tore off the wrapping paper. 

She beamed at the two dolls from Harrods that I had bought her the previous month, that day when I had bumped into Cynthia and Jane.

"Mummy, look!" She waved them at Angie, who smiled.

"They're lovely, Ruthie." Angie said before she turned to me, "you didn't have to do that - those dolls are expensive." She furrowed her eyebrows.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Paul said, "it was my money, Angie, don't worry about it."

"But -"

"John, will you play with me?" Ruth ran over to John, who had been deep in conversation with Paul. However, he agreed immediately and got up to take Ruth into the other room so their game wouldn't disturb us.

Mimi was holding Julian, who was asleep. The doorbell rang and I stood up to go and answer it, but Paul stopped me. "I'll get it."  
He disappeared, and a few seconds later we heard Jane. "Paul! Happy Christmas!" I swore that I could hear the sound of her lips against his cheek from the living room where we all were sitting, and I gagged.

"Are you alright, Lo?" Angie asked, putting a hand on my back and rubbing up and down soothingly. "You've gone all pale."  
"I, um," I took a few deep breaths, "I need a minute." I disappeared upstairs before Jane came into the living room.

An hour later, John knocked on the door and I let him in, going back to the bed and sitting down. "Are you a'right?" He asked, "your dad said you scarpered pretty quick -"  
"I just hate Jane."

John nodded, coming to sit on the beside me, "so do I, but you can't just leave whenever she arrives."  
"But she'll find out." I looked at my baby bump and John sighed.  
"Fuck her."  
I cringed at his language, though I definitely wanted to giggle. "She'll tell Cynthia." I pointed out.

"If Cyn didn't figure it out after last night then she should be told."  
"But Julian -"  
"Listen," John put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head, "he's _here_. He doesn't ever have to go back if we don't want him too. First thing tomorrow, I'll set Eppy to looking for 'ouses, and as soon as he finds the right one, we'll be in it, I promise."  
"But -"  
"Lo, stop stressing," he said, "it's not good for you. Life's for living. You live it fast and you live it laughing."

I nodded, taking a few deep breaths before I nodded again. "Okay... I think I'm ready to face the she-witch."

John chuckled, "she'll be your sister-in-law one day -"  
"Then she'll be yours, too." I pointed out.

John pulled a silly face and we both burst into fits of laughter.

When we had contained our giggles, John and I went back downstairs. I went straight over to Mimi and took Julian from her, who was now awake. I cooed at him and tried to ignore the very pointed daggers which Jane was shooting my way.

When I could avoid it no more, I turned to her. "Is something wrong, Jane?" I asked her sweetly, "you've been staring at me for almost five minutes."

"It seems everyone made it for Christmas," she replied, feigning innocence, "all except your baby's father, of course."

I chuckled, shushing Julian, who had begun to hush, "oh no," I replied, "he made it, too." I gestured to John, "I actually think you might know him?"

I smirked as she paled. "B-but -" she cut herself off, trying to articulate her words. "C-Cynthia -"

"Will get the paperwork in the new year." John came to stand beside me, "the baby's due in June. By then, we'll be married - and _you'll_ be on your back in Soho if we have _our_ way." I slapped him playfully, giggling and delighting at how uncomfortable and angry Jane looked.

"You -"  
"Dinner's ready!" Paul appeared in the doorway, cutting his livid girlfriend off. He looked at her, "is something wrong, Jane?" He asked her, completely unaware of the conversation which had passed between the three of us just moments before.

She just shook her head and stormed off, past Paul and into the dining room.

I sat on one side of John, and Ruth insisted on sitting on his other side. Angie was across from her daughter, Jim between her and Mimi. Paul sat at the head of the table and Jane at the other end. Dinner looked delicious, and there was nothing that I wanted more than to dig into the delight which awaited, but I waited patiently whilst Paul poured everybody (other than Ruth, of course), a glass of bucks fizz - the cheap alternative to champagne, which John quietly promised me we would have next year when the band had hit it big and he could afford such lovely things for us.

Paul raised his glass, "to the new year -"  
"To a new baby," John interrupted, raising his own glass and taking over from Paul, "a new family," he paused and smiled at me and then at Paul, and then little Ruth, who was beaming at the attention from him, "and to the best band in the world."

"To the new year!" Everybody chorused before taking a sip.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	50. Chapter Forty-Nine

**_7th February 1964_ **

I woke up to an empty bed, one side cold save for a small body beside me, still fast asleep. I put my arms around Julian and pulled him more tightly to me, being very careful not to squash him.

"Good morning, Jules," I whispered, kissing his forehead, "did your daddy put you here? He left quite early, didn't he?" I vaguely remembered John kissing my lips softly whilst I slept, whispering a hurried goodbye. Julian stirred and his eyes fluttered open. I smiled, sitting up and then picking Julian up, "I love you, Julian."

When John had said that he had to go on tour to America, I had been flattered and slightly scared when he had said that he was going to leave Julian with me. I didn't know if I would be able to cope with a ten month old baby by myself, but then he had reminded me that I would soon have a newborn, and then he had told me that he believed I could cope with anything.

His words alone had given me the courage to try.

Julian was my responsibility, now.

* * * * *

The phone downstairs rang just as I was giving Julian his lunch, a few hours later. He looked at me with a small and curious smile on his face and I put the bowl down in front of him, dipping to press a kiss on the top of his head before I went to answer the phone.

I wiped my hands on the apron that I was wearing, my baby bump fairly prominent because I was about five months pregnant. "Hello?" I asked cautiously, readying myself for the screams of fans who so often rang the house. Despite the fact that John and I had been living together for just over a month, we had had to change our phone number three times because of the fans finding and distributing it, calling at all times of the day - and night. For the first week, it had driven me mad, but now I was accustomed to it. 

John and I had last changed the number about a week before, so I was fairly sure that there would not be any fans who had it so soon.

"Lo?" It was Paul.

"Paul?" I asked excitedly, my heart skipping a beat as I realised how badly I actually missed the boys despite the fact that they had been gone only a few hours - but I had stopped going to the studio to see them since John had done the BBC interview and talked about George and I. I hardly ever saw Ringo now, and even George - I usually spoke to him on the phone, and that was only once every few weeks because John didn't like me talking to somebody who I had once slept with - regardless of whether it was George or not.

And I hadn't seen Paul in barely a week because he had been busy with Jane; since she had found out that they would be going on a tour of America, she had commandeered a lot of his time. I missed my brother, but there was nothing I could do about the situation which we were in.

So the only Beatle I had spoken to was John.

I didn't have any friends, and of course Cynthia wasn't talking to me because I was technically withholding her son from her - which I felt terrible about, but I knew that if I went against John's wishes and let her see Julian while he was away, then he would be absolutely furious with me.

"Hey," Paul's voice washed over me like a warm shower, and I felt instantly refreshed. I hadn't realised how much I missed him until I didn't see or speak to him, "you okay? How's the little nipper?"  
I chuckled at his choice of words, "he's good -"  
"Oh so it's a boy, now?" Paul asked me in a teasing tone.

"Well I don't know for sure," I replied, "but I think it's a boy... when I saw John with Ruth at Christmas, I wanted it to be a girl, but everytime I think about holding the baby, I imagine a boy."

"Hmm," Paul hummed, "is the waiting the worst part?"  
I nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see, "the morning sickness is quite bad too, y'know." I paused, "is John there?"

Paul was silent.

I pushed him to talk, "Paul?"

"He's, um, gone out."

"Gone out?" I echoed in surprise and confusion, "but I thought Eppy said that you wouldn't be allowed to -"  
"Eppy doesn't know." Paul sighed and I felt my heart sink. John loved me, I knew that, but if he met somebody in America that caught his eye more than I did, then I was sure that he'd leave me. He'd left Cynthia for me, why wouldn't he leave me for somebody else? "Lo?" Paul shocked me back to reality, "it'll all be fine. We'll be home in -"  
"Eight weeks." I finished. "I know... Paul?" Paul hummed in reply, "look after John for me... and George... make sure that you all look after yourselves, but make sure that they both eat properly, and don't do anything _too_ crazy out there."

Paul nodded, "of course I will, Lo."

"I have to go, then - I left Julian upstairs with his lunch and I just know that I'll have to wash the lunch off of him when I get back."

"I'll let you go, then..."

"Lo?"

"Yeah?" I had been halfway to putting the phone back on the hook, but the sound of my brother saying my name had caused me to put it back to my ear.

"We're number one in America. We've made it." And then he hung up.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	51. Chapter Fifty

**John's POV**

"Boys," Eppy sat us down and looked at each of us in turn for several seconds before he took a deep breath. I wondered how bad this news was going to be. I had never seen Brian like this before. "You're number one."  
"Number one?" Paul echoed, asking just to be sure that he had heard properly.

"Number one in America." Eppy confirmed, now looking directly at him. I looked down at the floor. It was rare that I could meet the man's gaze nowadays. Whenever I did, I would remember the time that we had spent together the previous year in Spain, just after Julian had been born...

I would remember what we had done.

George was still asleep, so it was just the three of us and Eppy in the living part of the suite which had been booked for us to stay in for our first two shows in the US.

"So that means...?" Ringo trailed off, obviously very excited because his fingers were trembling -

"It means that you've made it, boys." Eppy confirmed with a nod. "There'll be songs written about the four of you. Books. Museums for you... boys, you've written your names on history."

The three of us cheered, not caring if we woke George. 

We'd made it.

I stood up and went over to the phone, dialling the number of the person who I longed for the most.

"Hello?" My eyes widened. I had rung Cynthia. I hadn't meant to, I was sure of it. I had meant to call Charlotte - but habit, perhaps - or my subconscious - had caused me to call my now ex-wife.

I slammed the phone down on the hook and turned back to the boys. Eppy had disappeared, so it was just Ringo, Paul and I.

"Come on, Ringo." I snapped as I strode past the two of them, "we're going out."

"But Eppy said -"  
I ignored Paul, "man the phone, Paul, in case Charlotte calls -"  
"Who did you just call, then?" Paul asked me.

I thought for a split second of telling him the truth, and then apologising profusely because I _surely_ hadn't done it on purpose... had I?

"Scotland Yard." I answered sarcastically, and then I left the hotel suite, Ringo hurrying after me.

**Charlotte's POV**

The boys had hit the US. I was so proud of them. I knew that they would be able to do it. I had never doubted them, not even for a second. Those four were going to change history, I just knew it.

I picked Julian up and put him into the pram, making sure that he was strapped in tightly so that he wouldn't fall out when he leaned forward. I put my own coat on and sighed, noticing that the last two buttons wouldn't do up over my baby bump.

I made a mental note to ask John for the money to buy a new one.

There were fans outside of the gate, as there always was, and as Julian and I came out of the little side door of the railings, a few of them tried to grab at us, but I pushed them away harshly.

One of the girls fell down and began to cry.

"That'll serve you for it." I said to her as I carried on, threatening to run over the toes of anybody who approached Julian with the pram. Nobody dared. They knew that I was serious after witnessing me pushing that girl down. I hadn't _meant_ to be so forceful with her, but I was glad that they all had the message. When I was past the throng, I turned back to the girls, "and if I were you," I said clearly, "I'd get lost - they're in America on tour for the next few months so there's no point in waiting 'round here -"

The girls all groaned, but one spoke up, "I saw him leave this morning."

My eyes widened at her, "you...?" I asked in disbelief, "Jesus Christ, what time were you _here_?"  
She shrugged, "three or four, I don't know. It was dark."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Julian began to cry. I sighed and came round to the front of the pram to get him out of it. "Girls," I said, addressing them once more when I was holding Julian, "I know you want to see the boys, okay? But you can't stand outside here all day - especially if they're not even _in the country_..." I paused, "and you definitely can't be here at three in the morning. I don't want to have to get a court order or anything, but this is ridiculous. You're making Julian upset..." I showed him to them, he was crying. "Just go home or go to school or wherever it is that you have to be, and come back in two months. That's when they're due home. If I see any regulars lurking around here before then, I will get the order." I turned and flounced off, pushing the pram with one hand whilst holding Julian with the other arm.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	52. Chapter Fifty-One

I didn't hear from any of the boys for almost another three weeks, which hurt a lot. I felt like I had been left behind in England with a baby to care for, and neither John nor Paul cared.

I suspected that it might be easier if I had friends who I could spend some time with, but I had no idea who I might make friends - or, for that matter, who would be my friend without trying to get to one of the Beatles.

I had left Julian with the babysitter for the day, because I wanted to go and make a friend... but I realised that I had not even the faintest idea on how to make one.

I sat down on a bench and put my head in my hands, pouting because I truly felt so lost.

And because it was 24th February, George's birthday. He was twenty-one... and I couldn't even phone him because I didn't have the number for the boys' hotel room.

"Are you alright?" I jumped at the voice, immediately sitting bolt upright and taking a few seconds to compose myself and hold back my tears before I turned to my right and saw a very pretty blonde sitting beside me with a wide smile and gorgeous eyes. "I'm Jenny," she held out her hand to me.

I took her hand, shaking it as I replied, "I'm Charlotte... Lo to my friends."  
Jenny beamed, "it's nice to meet you." She paused, "are you okay? You looked quite -"  
"Yeah, I'm fine." I answered hurriedly, wiping the stray tear from my face and hoping that she hadn't noticed... but of course, she had. She raised her eyebrow at me, and I found myself just spilling everything, "my, um, brother went off to America for a tour with his band - and my fiance is in the band, too. I'm nearly six months pregnant and my feet are killing me, I have no idea what to get my ex boyfriend - who just so happens to be my best friend - for his twenty-first birthday, and on top of all of that, I've got care of an almost one-year-old who isn't really my son but might as well be, and I have no idea what to do with him because I can't leave my house because there are girls crowding at the gates every hour of every single day."

Jenny's eyes were wide when I had finished, but it didn't look like she was judging me... or pitying me, which was something that I definitely did not want.

After a few seconds of processing everything that I had said, she just smiled. "Would you like to come to my sister's with me for some tea?"

I just nodded and let her help me to stand up before she led me away from the busy street.

* * * * *

Jenny didn't bother knocking on the door of the block of flats. Instead, she just turned the handle and took my bag for me, helping me up the stairs to the top flat and making sure that I was okay before she knocked on the door of the flat. It opened almost immediately, and she went in first, beckoning me after her.

A blonde girl with rather large teeth opened the door and was talking to Jenny, her eyes flickering over to me every few seconds before she took a deep breath and turned to me, "I'm Pattie, Jenny's sister. You must be Lo?"

I nodded, "yeah, um, hi. It's nice to meet you -"

"I'm sorry about your fiance, and, um, your brother." She paused, but didn't give me enough time to reply. "Why don't you come in? I've just put the kettle on."

She turned and disappeared and I waited for Jenny to lead me inside.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	53. Chapter Fifty-Two

We sat around Patty's small table in her small kitchen. It wasn't much to look at, but it somehow had a more home-y feel than the entire house that John had bought for Julian, the baby (when it came), and the two of us. I loved it.

"Did you two grow up around here?" I asked them, sipping on the tea as I watched them watch me.

"Kenya." Pattie replied, putting her teacup down, "then we came back when I was about nine, and moved around a bit. I went to a boarding school." Jenny nodded. 

"Did you?" Jenny asked.

I shook my head. "No, I grew up in America. Paul's my half brother, really, though not many people know that. When I was seventeen, I moved to Liverpool with my stepfather, but he died just a few days after we arrived. After that, my biological father took me in... Paul and I moved down to London with the rest of the boys about eight or nine months ago."  
"So what band is your brother in?"  
I was quiet. Would they think less of me if I told them about _The Beatles_?

"You said they're in America, right?" Jenny asked me. I nodded. She was silent for a few seconds before she asked, "what's your fiance's name?"  
"John."

I knew that she was putting it together herself, but I let her.

"Lo?" I waited for Jenny to ask the inevitable question, "your brother... is his surname McCartney?"

My silence gave them their answer - or Jenny's, anyway.

She squealed.

"Your brother is _Paul McCartney_!" She jumped up, almost knocking the tea over, and shocking Pattie enough that she stood up as well.

"Jenny?" Pattie asked, "who is he?"  
"Only the most gorgeous guy in the most amazing band _ever_!" She turned to me, "sorry if that's weird, I -"  
"It's fine." I told her honestly. "There's fans outside the house all the time, and they're all exactly the same." I paused, "I'm used to it."  
"Wow," Jenny sat back down and Pattie did too, "imagine being the sister of _Paul McCartney_..."  
"Of _The Beatles_?" Pattie asked finally realising who we were talking about.

I nodded. "My fiance's -"  
"John Lennon!" Jenny squealed. "Oh wow -"  
"You said that already, Jenny." Pattie smiled into her teacup.

"I know, but -"  
I smiled, "you like them, then, Jenny?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Well when they're home, you should come over and meet them - you both should -"

"I'm not sure they'll appreciate meeting me when I don't even know their music." Pattie replied kindly.

"They'll love you for it." I told her, "things have gotten... a little hectic lately. There are fans everywhere all of the time, always ringing the phone, always screaming wherever we go. It's quite frightening sometimes... the boys don't like it either, so I'm sure that they'll like that you see them as four individual people rather than one collective group."  
Pattie replied, "I'll look forward to it, then."

Jenny nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with her older sister.

I looked at the clock, "I'm going to have to head back now, ladies, I've got a little boy who needs me."  
"Julian?" I nodded. I hadn't told them the name of John's son - _our_ son, really - but I knew that it had been printed in the newspapers a few weeks ago, so Jenny would probably have read it and have remembered his name. "Have you got a photo?"  
I reached into my bag, took my purse out and showed them the tiny little passport-sized photo. They both cooed. I stood up and smiled, "it was nice to meet you."

"And you!" They chorused.

"Could we have your number?"

I bit my lip, "you won't give it to anybody, will you?"

Pattie shook her head. "Of course not -"  
"Pattie's a model," Jenny said proudly, her chest puffing out as she looked at her sister, "she knows what it's like to be harassed -"  
Pattie chuckled uncomfortably, "not to the extent that rock stars do, I'm sure, Jenny." I smiled and reached into my bag again, taking out my little notebook and pen. I scribbled my number onto a blank page, ripped it out then gave it to Jenny, who looked like she was about to combust she was so excited.

"Bye!" I hurried out of the door, accompanied by their cheerful well wishes.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	54. Chapter Fifty-Three

**_One Week Later_ **

I was on the floor with Julian, running one of his toy cars around the floor as he crawled after it, occasionally getting up and toddling and lasting no more than four or five steps before he fell onto the floor.

"Careful, Jules!" I exclaimed as he grabbed at the settee to steady himself. He turned himself around with a lot of difficulty and then fixed his gaze on me. I opened my arms, dropping the toy onto the floor as I said, "that's it, good boy! Come over here!"  
He did. And as he landed in my arms, he babbled, "mummy! Mummy!"

I teared up. I cried. Julian just put his chubby little arms around me and continued to spout his first word... and it had been for me.

It was at that moment that I realised.

I was his mother.

I couldn't believe that Julian's first word had been 'mummy', and that it had been to me. I made a mental note to tell John next time he called, which I was sure would be soon - it had been over a week since I had spoken to him last.

At that moment, the phone rang. I stood up, keeping Julian in my arms. I walked to the phone by the settee and sat down, holding Julian tightly as I answered, "hello?"  
"Hey, Lo!" Paul exclaimed, "how are you an' the little ones?"  
"Hey, Paulie!" I replied excitedly, running my fingers through Jules' soft brown hair as he laid his head against my chest. "We're good - Jules said his first word today, actually, but don't tell John because I want to do that myself -"

"That's great!" He replied, "what was it?"  
"Mummy." I answered. "It was perfect, I wish someone else could have seen it."

I heard Paul talking to somebody else who was in the room with him, and then he said to me, "Lo, I'm sorry but I have to go. Eppy's booked another interview -"  
"Oh," I said, a little sad because he was the first person that I had spoken to in four days, "no, um problem... talk later?"  
Paul hummed in reply, "I'll call you when we get to the next hotel. Bye."

And then he was gone, and it was just Julian and me, and the baby.

* * * * *

I had played _With The Beatles_ so much that it now crackled, and usually skipped over most of Ringo's _Boys_. Whenever I put it on, the baby inside of me moved around and kicked and hiccuped, and I loved to feel it - _him_ , I imagined - moving, so I played it again... and again and again.

The phone rang and I answered it, "hello?"

"Hey, Lo." It was George. I smiled.

"Hi, George!" I exclaimed excitedly, then silently chiding myself for being so loud since Julian was in bed and generally a light sleeper. "How's America?"  
"It's gear." He told me, "everythin' we ever thought it would be."

"I'm glad." I told him honestly, remembering the nights when George and I would lie in bed in each other's arms and ponder on the future - the one that we had thought we would share - and where we would be. We had spent hours talking about America, and I was secretly a little bit jealous that he was finally getting to live out the fantasy which we had both had.

"And -"  
I squirmed in horror and surprise at the sound of a woman moaning loudly in the background, and a man's shouts of pleasure. George was quiet for a few seconds before he very quickly said, "Lo, I need to go, I -"

"George..." I said with tears in my eyes, my heart heavy. "Is that girl..."  
"Lo, it doesn't -"

" _George_." I said sharply, shocking him into silence and interrupting what he had been saying, "is that girl... w-with John?" George was silent. "She is, isn't she?" He continued to be silent. "That's why he hasn't called, I... _Oh my God_ , I -"  
"Lo, -"  
"George, you don't have to confirm or deny it. I won't put you into that position... but could you pass a message onto John for me?" He hummed in reply, and I could tell from the monotone tune that he gave me that he was listening, "find another fucking house, because this one belongs to me and the children that he has just abandoned."

And then I hung up. And then I cried.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	55. Chapter Fifty-Four

**_3rd April 1964_ **

I watched on the television with Julian in my arms as the boys' plane touched down on the tarmac at the airport, and I watched as they walked down the stairs and waved to the swarms of devoted fans. I watched them smile. I watched them talk to the press. I watched them act as if nothing had changed.

But of course, everything had.

They were now the biggest act in the world. _The Beatles_. Every girl wanted them, every boy wanted to be them. They were untouchable...

They were the world's and not mine, anymore.

Paul didn't belong to me or Jane. Instead, he belonged to every female who opened a magazine or saw him on the TV. 

George didn't belong to me, or to his mother or even his sister Louise, with whom he had always been close. He belonged to all of the boys who wanted to play guitar like him, and the girls who preferred the quiet Beatle.

And then there was John. John didn't belong to anybody, and he never would - not permanently, anyway. He had been Cynthia's, and then I had stolen him. He had been mine, but then he had been stolen by however many girls in America. And now he belonged to the fans; the people who could make him into their idol... but he would never truly be anybody's.

"Mummy?" Julian asked, sucking on his thumb. I looked at him and smiled, stroking his face and wishing for the thousandth time that my own baby would be born soon. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to have him heal the enormous hole in my heart that was entirely John-shaped. "Mummy?"

"You thirsty, Jules?" I asked him, sitting him on the settee beside me and then standing up before I bent over and gathered him in my arms once more.

_The door. The door's ringing_.

Julian was asleep on my chest and I was very comfortably laying on the settee. I didn't want to get up.

 _Stupid bladder_.

And I needed to use the bathroom. I sighed and set Julian on the settee, throwing a few cushions on the floor so that if he fell he wouldn't be too hurt, and then I went to go and use the toilet - whoever was at the door would have to wait.

 _And it's probably those stupid girls_ , I reasoned with myself, knowing that I had told the fans at the gate to not come back before the boys were back in the country. _Boy are they going to be upset when they find out that John doesn't live here anymore_ -

My eyes widened as soon as I opened the door.

" _George_?" I exclaimed in disbelief, surprise and happiness. I practically threw myself into his chest, and the tears were flowing before he had even cocooned me in his arms. George just held me as I cried, stroking the top of my head and pressing soft kisses against my hair, comforting me as I let out all of the emotion of the last eight weeks. It had been a long eight weeks.

After ten or fifteen minutes, George let me go and I stood upright again, "mind if we go in? Those girls are watching us..." he shot his eyes to two girls who had their faces pushed between the thin iron bars of the gate, and were very obviously watching - and they were calling for George, reaching out with their arms as if their limbs would extend and they'd suddenly be able to reach him.

I nodded, taking his hand and leading him inside.

As soon as we walked in the front room, George saw Julian. He walked over to the sleeping baby and picked him up, snuggling him against his chest. "Hey little baby," George cooed, "I missed you - ain't you gotten big?" 

Julian was asleep, so of course didn't move to show that he had heard George, but the sight of the two of them was adorable.

"Want something to drink, George?" I asked, gesturing for him to follow me into the kitchen, "I want to hear all about America."  
"I'll have whatever you're having." George said just loud enough for me to hear him, but not loud enough to wake or bother Julian.

"Water with a slice of lemon?" I raised an eyebrow, "you sure? You've had a long flight, and -"  
"And a crazy few months," George interrupted as he sat at the breakfast counter, turning in the seat to watch me fill the two glass with water and chop the lemon into slices, "Lo, it'd be really nice to not have to live up to the life of a rockstar, and to just have a glass of water."

I chuckled at what he had said, putting the glass in front of him and sitting in the seat beside his. "I remember when you couldn't wait to live like a rockstar, George. What changed?"

"I did, I think." He paused, sipping the water before he explained, "Lo, it's all so demanding. Album, press, tour, more press. Album, press, tour, more press. Christmas album. And then it starts all over again. It's exhausting, Lo, and I don't know if it's what I want."

"But you've finally made it, Geo." I paused, "and of course it's what you want - it always has been."

"I know, I know." George said, "I don't mean that I'd leave it, because I love music... but it's demandin', and I never thought about what I'd 'ave to give up..."

"Give up?" I echoed.

George hummed in reply, "think about it this way; you give up your privacy - you've got fans at the gate, people flashing cameras at you everywhere you go, beggin' for an autograph. In America, Lo, they were outside the hotels all night, every night. It was exhausting after a while 'cause after a show, we just wanted a decent night's sleep, y'know?"

"That does sound hard." I agreed, taking Julian from him naturally because he was fussing. I cuddled him just how he liked and made sure that he was settled before handing him back to George, who took him quite happily.

"It is..." we sat in silence for a few more seconds before George asked, "but what about you?"

"Me?" I echoed, putting a hand to my chest.

George nodded, "you've been here by yourself for eight weeks - that must have been hard. Why didn't you go stay with your dad for a bit?"  
"Because he's living with Ruth and Angie now, and with Mike there too, it's a little bit squashed in that little house."

George thought for a second, "why don't you and Paul get him a bigger house?"  
"I'll ask him about it." It would be nice to be able to see dad more often, but Liverpool was too far to drive there and back in a single day.

"How have you been, Lo? Has Julian been easy?"  
"He's been an angel." I told him honestly.

"And the little one?" He looked at my baby bump.

I put my hands on it, looking down at the bump before I looked into the eyes of the man across from me, "he squirms and kicks a bit, and I constantly need the toilet which is annoying, but I guess it's been okay. There's been nothing serious, thank God, so I've been lucky."

George smiled, "I'm glad. You and the little one'll be a'right, I'm sure."

That meant a lot.

We talked for a few more hours, George holding Julian all the time, and we avoided the topic of John. Of course.

I yawned, "you tired?" I nodded, "are you?"

He shook his head, "no, I could stay up with you forever, Lo, you know that."

I smiled at his words despite my exhaustion, remembering the times that we had stayed up talking about nothing and everything at the same time. "Geo?" He hummed in reply, "could you, um, maybe help me to bed? I don't think I could walk properly, I'm so tired."

"Sure, luv..." he went slightly red at his slip of the tongue, but I didn't complain. Hearing him call me such familiar, comforting names made me feel warm inside... like I was home again. He disappeared for a few minutes, and came back without Julian. I assumed that he had taken him to his room and laid him in the cot. When George came back, he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me up bridal-style. He chuckled. "You're not as flexible as you used to be!" He joked with me.

I giggled sleepily, "I think it's the baby inside of me... I could be wrong, though." George laughed and carried me up the stairs, not saying anything as I laid my head against his chest and closed my eyes, smelling his gorgeous cologne and revelling in the safety that I felt in his arms.

George laid me on the bed and took off my slippers, pulling off my socks and putting them in the dirty laundry hamper in the corner of the room. "George?" He turned back to me. My eyes were half closed but I watched him still, never wanting to take my eyes off of him.

"Lo?"  
"Could you maybe stay the night? I-I've... I've missed you..."

George smiled softly and nodded slowly. "Yeah... of course..." he took the pillow from John's side of the bed and then laid on the floor.

"What're you doing?" I asked him.

"Being respectful." He grumbled. "It's very difficult, because I just want to hold you, but I know you love -"  
"George?"

"Hmm?" He hummed in reply.

"Can you hold me?"

George didn't need to be asked a second time. He got off of the floor and took off his jacket before he got into the bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me closer to him. The lamp was already off, so we just had to close our eyes... and as we did, George's hands drifted down to my baby bump and rested there.

I breathed out contentedly.

It seemed that all was right with the world once more.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	56. Chapter Fifty-Five

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed, and my heart sunk. Where was George?

I tried not to let my sadness get the best of me, however, and so I got out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Everything was the same as it had been yesterday morning - it was as if George had never been here at all.

The house was silent, and so I hoped that I had enough time for a quick bath, discarding a shower in case I slipped over and hurt the baby when I landed. I ran the water and got in, wishing that it could be hotter and that I could have more time in the tub, but knowing that Julian would be up soon and I would have to make him breakfast.

I climbed out and dressed in a pretty blue maternity dress, sliding my feet into my slippers before I went downstairs. There was nobody there. My mood sunk and I sighed, filling the kettle up and putting it on the stove to boil before I went back upstairs to wake Julian.

"Jules?" I asked, pushing his door open slowly. "Julian?"  
He wasn't there.

My heart immediately began to pound in my rib cage as I thought about all the things that could have happened to him in such a big house. He could have fallen down the stairs - _you've been downstairs, he's not there_. He could have fallen out of the window - _all the windows are locked, you made sure of it the night before John left because of the fans_. He could have -

"You a'right, Lo?" I jumped, turning around quickly and seeing George standing in the doorway behind me with Julian on his hip. My eyes widened and I rushed forward, taking Jules from him.

"Oh, my baby," I cooed as I held him tightly, "I thought something had happened, I -"  
"Sorry for scarin' you, Lo," George said, shocking me back to reality, "he was crying this morning so I thought I'd take him out for a walk an' give you a rest."

I smiled gratefully at George, "no, it's okay, I... I just worry. Maybe next time leave a note?"  
George raised one thick, brown eyebrow. "Next time, eh?" I blushed. "Who said anythin' about a next time?"  
"Oh, I..." I bit my lip and decided to just ask him. "George... if you haven't got anything to rush home for, well.... I think Jules would really like it if you stayed for a few days." I looked at Julian, who was laughing as he played with my still-wet hair.

George stepped forward and took Julian from me, putting him back on his hip and bouncing him up and down for a few seconds before he turned back to me, "oh _Julian_ would, would he?" I nodded. "Would _Julian_ like me to do anything else while I'm 'ere?"  
" _Julian_ would like you to maybe, um, sleep beside him?"

George smiled, his top lip curling up as his fangs showed. My heart skipped a beat.

"I think that can be arranged -"  
There was a loud banging on the front door and I jumped once more. George looked very concerned, "who's that?" he asked me.

"Who do you think?" I asked rhetorically, "there's only one person who would be that rude." I sighed, "can you just watch Jules for me? I'll deal with this..." and then I went into my bedroom and opened the window.

"John!" I snapped, causing the banging on the door downstairs to stop as John took a few steps back and found the window which I was calling to him from. "John Lennon!"  
"So you finally thought you'd fucking answer then?!" He sneered, "open the fucking door, Charlotte, this is _my_ house -"  
"Actually," I replied sweetly, "it's not... it's in _my name_ because you didn't want to be taxed on the purchase. You have no right to be here -"  
"What about Julian?"  
"He's fine with me." I told him firmly.

"He's not your son!"

"He's as good as!" I yelled, "Cynthia hasn't even _tried_ to get back in contact, you abandoned him -"  
"I have a _job_!" John defended angrily, "I had to 'abandon' him." He put quotation marks around his words, "you can't -"  
"Leave us alone, John." I sighed, "we don't want the stress of living with you." I bent over and picked up the suitcase of his clothes which I had packed up for him a few days previously. I pushed it onto the window ledge and then out of the window. I didn't even care if it landed on him. He deserved it.

"Fucking careful -"  
"You finish that sentence, and Paul will never speak to you again." I told John in a measured tone, grimacing at the fans who were watching our argument from the gate. He had been about to call me a _bitch_ , I just knew it.

"You fucking -" John cut himself off, "I'm coming up there, you -"  
"Come up here, Lennon, and I'll kill you myself." I turned to see George standing beside me, hanging out the window beside my own.

John's eyes widened when he saw George, and then I knew that he was _really_ mad.

"I knew it." John said lowly, just loud enough for George and I to hear, "I knew you'd end up fucking him again." John scoffed, "are we sure that that baby is even _mine_?"  
I began to sob. I had been handling the situation so well until he had started insulting the baby. _My baby_. It wasn't his anymore. He had just given up any and all rights that he had to be able to refer to himself as its father and it as his child.

George wrapped his arms around me and pulled me gently away from the window, "just fuck off, John. It's over." And then George closed the window and took me into Julian's room, settling me in the armchair by the window, moving the chair and me so that I could watch Julian play.

I calmed down almost instantly.

"Lo?" George said after a few minutes of silence. I looked up at him, waiting for him to continue. "I'll stay as long as you want me to."

**_1st June 1964_ **

Everything was fine. Everything was going to plan. I didn't need to panic, I -

"George!" I screamed. He came running, his guitar in one hand as if he hadn't even had time to put it down.

"What?" He asked hurriedly, "what is it!?"  
I winced, "I - _ah_!" A contraction ripped through me.

George dropped the guitar and rushed to my side, holding me tightly before he asked, "is it the baby?!"

"I think he's coming!"

George's eyes widened and he went crazy. "What do I do? What can I do? Lo, what do you need?"  
"T-the b-bag...!" I waved in the general direction of the hallway. George helped me to the front door and then let go just long enough to get the bag and his car keys. He led me out to the car and put me in the backseat, making sure that I was as comfortable as I could be before he ran round to the driver's side and got in. He started the engine and got halfway down the driveway before I stopped him. "Julian!"  
George ripped the handbrake up and then got out of the car, not even bothering to kill the engine before he ran back up to the house. Two minutes later, another contraction tore through me, and George was back. He opened the car door and gave me Julian to hold since we didn't have enough time to put the car seat in. I needed to get to the hospital right away.

As I felt another contraction coming on, I had to brace myself. I couldn't scream, and I could barely cry because I didn't want to frighten Julian. So this was what being a mother was all about - protecting your baby, even if it was at a cost to yourself.

"We'll be there soon, baby," George promised me, his tongue slipping back to its old, familiar ways in the heat of the moment, "don't worry. It's goin' to be okay..."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	57. Chapter Fifty-Six

There were three midwives in the room with me, and I didn't know if this was because of my surname - McCartney - or because of the way that George had ordered the doctors to ensure that I had the very best care.

Either way, it made giving birth as easy as it could have been.

Just four hours after George had driven me to the hospital, I was in a private room with Julian asleep in a little cot bed beside me, George at my side, and in his arms was a tiny bundle of blue blanket... and wrapped in that blanket was my son. Dhani John George Lennon.

John had had no role in choosing the name of his second son, and I had felt slightly rotten about that... but he had not been there for me. He had not supported me. I realised that. When John and I had decided to get together at Christmas time, it had been a spur-of-the-moment, hot headed decision. It had wrecked everything, including our friendship.

I knew that John and I would probably never talk civilly again, which was a shame... I missed him.

But in Dhani, my sweet little Dhani, I had a piece of my best friend.

I had named Dhani after his father, of course, but also my best friend. And then I had named him after George, who had always been there for me, and I knew always would be. He had been totally fascinated by Dhani from the very moment that he had come into the world, though I had refused to let him in the room whilst I pushed a baby from between my legs, and I had instead sent him to wait in the hallway and to look after Julian.

"Geo?" I asked. He looked at me, tearing his eyes away from the baby for a few seconds, "could you ring Paul and let him know?"  
"Now?"

I nodded. "I'll be okay with the boys for a few minutes." It thrilled me to be able to say that. I was exhausted, so I gestured for George to put Dhani in the baby basin that had been wheeled in following his birth. George then put his jacket on and left the room.

I looked over to Julian and suddenly wanted to hold him and stroke the brown hair on his head. I threw the blankets back which were covering me and moved my body to get out of the bed. I winced because I ached, but I still pushed myself off of the bed to stand up...

And I fell. I yelped as I landed on my ankle and I felt it click, but I didn't think that it was broken. Julian jerked awake and when he saw me on the floor, he began to cry. Dhani screamed and within seconds I was crying too. I shuffled my way along the floor and over to Julian, putting my hand in his because I wasn't sure if I could stand up because my entire body ached.

"Shush, Jules," I cooed, "it's okay... I-I'm -"  
"Mummy hurt?" And then I cried harder, because his first sentence was out of concern for me.

"Jules," I said softly, "I really need you to stop crying because I have to get to -"  
"Charlotte!" George rushed into the room and dropped something onto the floor before he reached me, slipping his arms around me; one around my back and the other behind my knees. He picked me up and set me back on the bed. I had managed to quieten Julian down, but Dhani was still shrieking.

"George," I said, waving at the baby, "can you -"  
George had Dhani in his arms within a second, and was cradling him tightly to make him feel safe.

The way that George was with Dhani was so natural, I wished that George was Dhani's dad because then everything would have been perfect.

George looked up from Dhani's face and caught me watching them. He blushed, "I, um, sorry... I kind of nicked your baby..." he put Dhani in my arms and then turned away, going to pick up whatever it was that he had dropped when he had run in a few minutes before.

And when he turned back to me, he was holding out a bouquet of white roses.

He looked down at them, "they're not much - I got 'em from the shop downstairs -"

I smiled, "they're beautiful, Georgie." He put them on the table at the end of the bed, smiling as he went over to Julian and picked him up.

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you call me that again, Lo..."

He sat on the edge of the bed and put Julian on my lap. I had everything that I had ever wanted. A family... well almost, anyway.

"George?" He hummed in reply, completely fascinated with the two boys as Julian softly stroked baby Dhani's nose, giggling when Dhani sneezed. "I-I don't think I can look after them both on m-my own... w-would you come b-back with m-me?"

George just smiled and leant across the two boys, his face getting closer to mine. He gave me plenty of time to pull away, moving as slow as anybody ever had, but I didn't shy away from his movement. George's lips touched mine and my heart leapt in my chest.

And it was then that I realised.

I should never have left him.

Dhani should be _George_ 's son... 

And I never stopped loving George Harrison.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	58. Chapter Fifty-Seven

The next day, I awoke in the hospital bed. It was sunny. Julian was beside me in the bed, and George was curled up in the armchair next to Dhani's basin, the two of them still asleep. I took a few seconds to observe them before I picked Julian up and moved him into my lap, gently stroking his hair until he woke up.

"Hey, Jules," I whispered, "you hungry, baby?" He nodded sleepily and flopped back against my chest, which was quite sore. "Why don't you wake Georgie up and see if he'll take you to get something?" Julian nodded again and I helped him off of the bed. When he was standing upright, he toddled over to George and climbed onto the armchair. He tugged on George's mop-top until he woke up, a smile on his face immediately when he saw Julian in his lap, Dhani in the baby basin beside him and me in the bed opposite.

"What's up, buddy?" George asked quietly since Dhani was still asleep.

"He's hungry." I said for Julian. George looked over to me briefly. "And so am I," I told him, "do the cafe downstairs have muffins?"

"I don't know," George furrowed his thick eyebrows, he turned back to Julian, "why don't me an' you go get some brekkie while mummy feeds Dhani?"

Julian nodded and put his thumb in his mouth. George stood up, still holding Dhani, and brought him over to me. He set him on the bed, gave me a kiss on the mouth and then picked up Dhani - who woke up as soon as he was taken from his basin - he gave him to me and then picked Julian up again.

"Come on, buddy."  
George closed the door behind him and I looked at my son, my Dhani, who was turning red - I suspected that it would be mere seconds before he began to scream for his breakfast. I pulled down the hospital gown which I had gone to sleep in and took a few deep breaths.

"Okay, baby, let's do this..." 

* * * * *

Getting Dhani to latch on was impossible, and I was still trying forty minutes later when George returned, a paper bag in one hand, a mug of hot tea in the other and Julian following along at his heels.

My eyes darted to George as soon as he walked in and I blushed, moving Dhani away from my uncovered breast and moving quickly to pull my gown back up. I sighed, "it's, um, no good." I said as George put the bag and mug down before he took Dhani from me, who was still screaming for his breakfast, "he just won't take it..." I sighed, "I feel like a failure. Why can't I do it, George?"

My lips were trembling and my eyes were watering, and George saw this. He called for the nurse and then handed Dhani off to her to be fed. He was taken away, and it was only when his screams could no longer be heard from down the hallway that I realised how much my head was aching and how exhausted I was.

"You're _Lo McCartney_." George said softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, lacing our hands together and speaking just loud enough for the two of us to hear, "you can do anything... maybe Dhan just needs some time. It's got to be a big change, hasn't it?"

"What?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Being all warm an' comfortable, being fed whatever your mum's eating - an' then you come into the world through a small hole, you're prodded around and cuddled and spoken to and you don't even know what's 'appening. I bet all Dhani wants is to be back inside o' you where he knows he's safe."

George was right. I nodded, "yeah," I agreed, "probably..." I sighed, "how am I going to do this, George? I can't be a mother to two -"  
"You're _Lo McCartney_..." George repeated, "Lo, you can do _anything_... and you won't be alone, because I'll be with you, and so will Paul - he's out in the hallway, by the way."  
"He... _what_?" It took me several seconds to process what George had just said.

"Your brother's outside. I tried to tell 'im that you were tired, but he said -"  
"Let him in, Geo." George nodded and stood up, going over to the door and opening it, gesturing for Paul to come in.

As soon as my brother entered, he closed the door, and then he looked at me. There was a naughty smile on his face. "You've looked better, Lo." 

I smiled despite my exhaustion, "reckon I still look better than you, Macca. Get over here."

He came over and gave me a cuddle, being very careful to be gentle with me. When he pulled away, I saw George standing by the wall with Julian in his arms once again, the two of them talking away to each other about Dhani... well, George was telling Julian about how great having a brother was, and Julian was putting in an odd word.

"So how do you feel?" Paul asked, sitting in the folding chair by my bed, "has it sunk in, yet?"  
"That I've got two boys?" I beamed, "not really, but at the same time, I feel like I knew it a long time ago -"

Paul smiled, "well you did say the baby was going to be a boy... have you told dad yet?"

I shook my head, "he's so focused on Ruth and Angie, I doubt he'd even have time for -"  
"His own grandchild?" Paul interrupted, "come on, Lo, that's -" Paul cut himself off, looking around the room, "where is the little mite, anyway?"

I chuckled, "the nurse took him."  
"He wouldn't feed." George elaborated, tearing his attention away from Julian momentarily. I shot him a glare that said _my brother didn't need to know that_.

"Oh..." Paul bit his lip, "um, listen Lo, about John..." he hesitated before he just came out with it, "he knows."

I gasped, "about Dhani?"

Paul nodded. "Jane was round last night when George called, and she told Cynthia, and y'know Cyn's a terrible gossip -"  
"Yes, but how did it get back to _John_?"

"Well... Cyn told one of the reporters -"  
"Oh that's fucking great!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes.

George sighed, "that's why Jules and I were so long this morning -"  
"So now the fucking world knows about Dhani!?"

The look on Paul's face gave me my answer.

I groaned, "poor baby hasn't even been here twenty four hours and he already has to -"

"John wants to see 'im."

"No."

"But Lo -" 

I cut Paul off, "no fucking way." I hardly ever swore, but it seemed like this was a conversation that required it.

"He's Dhani's -"  
"If you finish that sentence Paul McCartney, so help me God I will get out of this bed and womp you around that thick head of yours with the first blunt object that I find." Paul got off of the bed and slowly made his way across the room.

George was laughing loudly, and his laughter had caught onto Julian as well, who was giggling.

"But Dhani -"  
"Doesn't need to know that waste of space." I said firmly. "Now, _brother_ ," I said through gritted teeth, "if you have nothing nice to say, then please leave. I am currently enjoying time with my family, and that can either include you - or not." 

I saw the hurt flash across Paul's eyes and I immediately felt very guilty. The nurse knocked at the door but didn't wait for an answer before she brought Dhani in. He was quiet now, and had a very satisfied, very full look on his face.

"Hey, baby," I cooed at him as she handed him over before rushing out, stopping for just a few seconds to stare in surprise and awe at Paul, "did you eat okay?" Dhani burped and everybody laughed, but then I looked back up at Paul and he stopped.

"Lo," Paul sighed, "I'm sorry... I just want you to do the right thing. Being an unmarried mother -"  
"What's wrong with it, Paul?" George asked. "Because from where I'm standing, she's doing a good job. She had Julian for _eight weeks_ while we all pissed about in America, and we both know that John was not helpful before then." Paul opened his mouth to reply, but George continued, "and if Lo didn't want to be an 'unmarried mother', as you so _carefully_ put it, then she'd have me, wouldn't she?"  
"What?" Paul snorted, ignoring the fact that I was in the room as he argued with George, "you're going to ride in on your white horse wearin' your shiny suit of armour and marry the damsel in distress, George?" Paul smirked, "don't make me laugh. You're just here for one thing and -"  
"PAUL MCCARTNEY GET OUT OF MY ROOM RIGHT NOW!" I yelled, shocking Dhani into a crying fit, and Julian too. I felt awful for shouting and for scaring both of the boys, but I knew that I had done the right thing. I had needed to steal back a little bit of power from my older arsehole of a brother.

Paul turned to me and said, "you're making a mistake, Charlotte." And then he stormed out. George and I set about settling the boys.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	59. Chapter Fifty-Eight

**_Two Weeks Later,_ **

**_18th June 1964_ **

The girls at the gate of 7 Cavendish Avenue screamed when they saw me approaching. Dhani burst into tears and I took him out of his pram, holding him with one hand and pushing the pram with the other. I scowled at the girls.

"Look what you've done," I said to the first one who tried to talk to me, "you've upset poor little Dhani -"

"Dhani?" Another girl asked.

"Is that John's son?"

"The one in the paper?" A fourth girl asked.

I huffed and strode off, using my key to open the gates and push the pram through before I followed it then closed them behind me. The girls all shrieked, trying to grab at Dhani and I and begging me to let them in.

I turned to them, "you're loony, aren't you? You're outside Paul's house at all hours -"  
"Didn't you sleep with George _and_ John?" An unfamiliar girl asked. I had never seen her before today; either outside my house when John had lived there, at Paul's or at the house recently since George had moved in. "I bet your baby was -"

"Finish that sentence, you little _slut_ , and I'll -"  
"Lo!?" I turned around and saw Paul on the doorstep, his hand across his forehead like a sun visor. "What're you doing over there?" He hurried down the steps then jogged over to me and Dhani. He took one look at me and then at the girls, "a'right, you lot," he said, addressing them, "get lost - you've made poor little Dhani cry." Paul took Dhani from me. The girls didn't move. "I mean it!" He said menacingly, and they scarpered.

Paul turned to me as soon as the last girl was across the street and wouldn't be able to hear us.

"Happy birthday." I said quietly, watching him with Dhani.

Paul smiled, "thanks... an' thank you for coming -"  
"We're family, aren't we?" I replied, "of course I'd come and say happy birthday - though I will admit that Julian wasn't in the best of moods this morning and as a result I forgot to bring your birthday present -"  
"Come for dinner!" Paul exclaimed suddenly.

I jumped in surprise but a smile spread across my face.

"Dad'll be here, too. No Angie or Ruth since Ruth's got the pox, or something -"  
"Oh, poor Ruthie." I frowned, "but of course I'll come - this'll be the first time that dad has met Dhani, too -"  
"And bring Jules and George."

That stopped me in my tracks.

"B-but you s-said -"  
"Lo, if you're going to marry George -"

"But I don't know if I am, Paul." I let him lead me inside. Once we were in the living room, I sat down and continued. "I _love_ George, of course. For me, it's always been George, and... and... and _anybody else_ was a mistake on my part. I love how safe and loved that he makes me feel. I love he looks after Julian, and how he treats Dhani like his own son - but I also loved John -"  
"You _thought_ you loved John." Paul corrected. "Lo, I think you just needed a change, and John came around at the right time... do you regret your... _time_ with him?"

I shook my head and Paul's eyes widened. That hadn't been the answer that he had been expecting, clearly. "If I regretted John and me, then I wouldn't have Dhan, and I definitely don't regret him."

"Well take Dhani from it, then." Paul smiled at the baby before looking back up at me, "Lo, do you regret leaving George for him? Do you regret all of the unhappiness? The tears?"

I was silent for several seconds, and then I whimpered, " _yes_..." I then regained my voice, "but not Dhani. I do not. Regret. Dhani." I had to make that very clear.

Paul nodded. "I know."  
"Or Julian."

Paul nodded again, "I know... and you've done more for Jules than Cynthia ever did."

I nodded, "I know."

"Paul?" I looked around nervously at the sound of Jane's voice. 

Paul bit his lip, "she was hoping to talk to you -"

" _Me_?" I echoed incredulously, "about what?"

"Charlotte." Jane came into the room as soon as I had finished my sentence, and I wondered if she had been outside the door listening. "Welcome."  
"Uh, thanks?" I answered, turning to look at Paul, who shrugged at me and then continued to lavish his attention on the happy Dhani. Wherever that baby went, he was worshipped. By George, by me, and even Julian, and now by Paul.

Jane turned to Paul, "you didn't tell her, did you?"  
"Tell me what?" I asked, feeling more and more like this was an ambush.

"Paul and I moved in together!" Jane squealed excitedly. I looked to my brother, who looked less than impressed with the way that Jane had told me the news, but he shrugged as if to say, _you know what she's like_.

I sighed. Moving in together. That was usually followed by an engagement, and then by a wedding and a baby afterwards.

It only hit me in that moment.

I was stuck with Jane Asher for the rest of my life.

Jane as my sister-in-law. Jane as the mother of my nieces and nephews. Jane as the wife of the brother that I was closest to. Jane. Jane. Jane.

"That's great -"  
"Of course, I'm going home tonight to finish packing some of my things, but come tomorrow -"  
I stopped listening to the annoying redhead, because I still had tonight with my brother.

"Well," I said, trying to imitate a cheery smile, "Dhani and I will be going now..." I took Dhani from Paul who gave me a kiss on the cheek and then I turned to Jane. It practically killed me to throw a, "nice to see you again, Jane," at her...

But that wasn't enough.

"Oh, Dhani!" She exclaimed fawning over my baby and practically snatching him from my arms. She cuddled and kissed and cooed at him, and I could tell from the way that Dhan was fidgeting that he was very uncomfortable with her.

I sighed and took Dhani from her forcibly, "yes, lovely, isn't he?"  
"Absolutely!" She didn't seem to notice my hostility. She had completely changed her tune from when we had last met - she'd been with Cynthia, and had tried every which way possible to make me feel inferior.

"Well, George has got lunch on for us, so we best be going." _Lie_. "Happy birthday, Paul." I nodded at my brother, and then I looked at Jane, " _Jane_." And then I turned and walked out of there with Dhani, neglecting to take his pram back with me because I knew it would be fine at Paul's and I couldn't be bothered to push it home.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	60. Chapter Fifty-Nine

"That you, Lo?" George called from the kitchen. I closed the front door behind me and put Dhani on his back on the floor so I could take off my coat and shoes. When I was done, I picked him up and cuddled him tightly, kissing the top of his head before I heard Julian.

"Mummy! Mummy! Mummy home!"

I beamed and went into the kitchen with Dhani. George was at the stove with Julian on his hip as he cooked, all the while mindful to keep Julian away from the flames as he stirred something.

I sniffed, "smells good," I said, coming into the kitchen. George turned at the sound of my voice and his entire face lit up. I loved it when that happened - yet another thing that he had always done, and something that I had missed during our time apart. John had _never_ looked at me like that.

"You're back!" George said as he crossed the room and kissed my lips softly, then passing me Julian so that he could take Dhani from me. He was the best with Dhani - treated him - and Julian - like his own sons. I admired him a lot for that, because by all counts, he should resent Dhani. Dhani was the reason why I had chosen to make a go of things with John, and why I had stayed away from George for so long... but in that strange way that things often happen, Dhani had stitched us back together, and instead of being a couple as we had always been, we were a family of four; George and me, and then our two boys, Dhani and Jules.

"What're you cooking?" I asked.

"Dinner." George paused, "I rang mum for the recipe - I knew you liked it the last time she made it for you, and I wanted to do something special for you."  
"Why?"  
George bit his lip before replying, "because it's Paul's birthday, Lo, an' I know the two of you are -"  
"We're talking again." I interrupted happily, "and he invited us round for dinner... all four of us -"

"That's gear!" George enthused, kissing Dhani once more, "hear that, little man? You're comin' to Uncle Paulie's for dinner!"

I giggled, "and dad'll be there, too -"  
"An' you're going to meet your grandad!" George continued to coo at Dhani.

I giggled, "Georgie, imagine how scary it must be to have two thick eyebrows staring at you!"  
"Hey," he said in a serious voice, "I grew them myself, Lo, don't poke fun at 'em. And he's got the same ones, anyway -"

Before my mind could think on what he had just said, Julian cried out, "Mummy home!" again, throwing his arms around my neck once more.

I smiled and nuzzled my nose into his neck.

"I taught him that while you were gone, an' now he won't stop sayin' it -"  
I looked at George, "I think it's the cutest thing ever. We need to start teaching him some more words, anyway."

George nodded in agreement, "I should start 'im with the guitar soon -"  
I chuckled, "you most certainly should not!" I paused, "Julian's not going anywhere near those nasty girls that wait outside gates all day and night."  
George pouted, pretending to be offended, "you don't want 'im to end up like me?"

"Well I suppose he could do a lot worse..." I teased.

He shrugged, "I s'pose he could." George turned to the dinner which he had been cooking, "stew'll need a few hours, I'll turn it off before we leave for Paul's." He took my spare hand in his and led me into the living room. He put Dhani in the little highchair which we had set up for him, and then I put Julian on the floor. He toddled off to play with his toys which were in the corner of the room in a box.

I sat on the settee with George. I turned to him, and we both spoke at the same time, "I was just thinking -"  
We cut ourselves off, laughing.

"You first." George insisted.

"I was just thinking about how much I love you." I bit my lip. Was it too soon to say that after all we had been through recently? We had said it to each other before, but now... I didn't know if he felt the same, or if he was spending time with me out of obligation, or a feeling of uneasiness. How did he feel about all of this? About _us_?

"Charlotte..." George said quietly, almost in a whisper, as he put a hand on my knee and I looked down at it briefly, noting the callouses which rubbed against my kneecap. "Charlotte, d-don't say that i-if you're not s-sure..."  
"George," I put a hand on the side of his face, noting how his eyes were watering. My heart swelled and I bit my lip. "I'm sure. I love you. I always have, and I always will... no matter what happens."

I felt terrible for what I had put him through for the last nine months.

"Charlotte, I love you so much... God, it's so good to be able to see that again. After... after everything..." I winced, but George leaned forward and pressed a comforting, loving kiss to the corner of my right eye. "I don't care about whatever happened, y'know. I don't care that Jules is John and Cyn's, or Dhani isn't mine biologically, because it doesn't matter. Because they're _mine_. They're _ours_... an' I want, more than anything else, to be their's."

I was crying, but they were happy tears. They were tears of love, and devotion, and so many more emotions that I would never be able to name or explain.

George felt the same as I did.

"Oh, Georgie!" I cried, throwing my arms around him and moving so that I could sit on his lap. I looked at him again as his arms went around my waist and he held me loosely but possessively.

"And... I was going to say before, but... I have to tell you before we move on any further."

"Anything, George." I promised him, "whatever it is, it's okay. You forgave me for everything, and you deserve the same -"  
"It's nothing like that... it's... I dunno how you're goin' to feel, but..." he paused, breathing deeply as he gathered the courage to say the next part, "Lo, I love Dhani and Julian, of course, but y'know I've always wanted one of my own..."

" _Oh_..." I looked into my lap. "I-is that all?"

He nodded, "and I know that you probably won't for another few years, but well, I always felt closer to my brother, Peter, 'cause we were only a few years apart. It was always hard to be close with Lou and Harry because they were on the next part of their lives -"

"George," I cut him off with a swift peck to his lips, "I know. I like being close in age to Paul and Mike, and Dhani and Jules are close. I... I won't deny you children, George, ever. I know you've always wanted a big family." We'd spoken about it at length during our years together. "And, um, as soon as I'm ready to have a baby again, then I'll tell you..." I paused, building the tension between us, "but until then..."  
"We can try?" George asked cheekily, a smirk on his handsome face that I recognised as the same that I had fallen in love with just after I had arrived in Liverpool.

"We can try." I confirmed. George smirked and pulled me closer to him. I shifted in his lap and felt him stirring to life beneath me. I giggled and climbed off of him, going over to Dhani and picking him up, "but not now... the boys are awake, and we have to be at Paul's in a few hours."  
George got up and picked Dhani up. "Come on, little lad," he said to him, "let's get you dressed for the day."  
And he took Julian up the stairs, checking over his shoulder just once to see that I was following him.

And I was going to, but before I made for the stairs, I looked into the brown eyes of my Dhani, "soon, Dhan," I said, "you're going to be a big brother." He put his fist to his mouth and tried to suck on the whole thing. I just smiled and kissed his baby button nose, "I love you, Dhan."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	61. Chapter Sixty

George drove us to Paul's because he didn't want us to walk home later in the dark with the boys. I held Dhani as we drove because we hadn't had the chance to get him a car seat yet, but we were going to make it a priority.

Dad's car was already in the driveway of 7 Cavendish Avenue. George pulled up just behind it and turned around to look at Julian, who was playing with a toy which George had bought him the previous week.

"Be good, Jules, yeah?" Julian smiled and nodded, hardly paying any attention to George before he went back to playing with his toy.

I smiled at George, who glanced at me briefly before putting a hand on the handle and pushing the door open. He had one foot on the driveway before I grabbed his hand, the one that was closest to me, catching his attention. He turned back to me and I cocked my head at him.

"I love you."

George smiled broadly back at me and leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on my lips before he took Dhani from my arms and went to get Julian out of the car as well. I got out and retrieved Paul's present from the backseat, and then we walked up the stairs to the front door.

Paul answered as soon as George had knocked, and he greeted us both with a smile and a cuddle.

"Hey, Jules!" Paul said to Julian, who was holding onto George's hand, kneeling down so he could speak to him properly. He took Julian from George, "do you like having a little brother?" He picked Jules up and then looked at Dhani, "hey, Dhan. Long time, no see." He teased, even though Dhani didn't know what he was saying. "Come on then, you're lettin' in a drought -"  
"Not that you can't afford it, eh, Paul?!" Came dad from the living room. I bounded in and threw myself at him, relishing the feeling of him wrapping his arms around me.

"Daddy!" I squealed excitedly. I had missed him so much since I had seen him last. So much had happened to me.

"Hey, Lo," he said affectionately, stroking the back of my head, "where's this little boy of yours, then?"

I turned around and looked at George, who came into the room with Dhani. George came right over to dad and me, a small smile on his face.

"Hello, Georgie," dad teased, "always knew it'd be you, didn't we, Paul?" Dad looked over at Paul, who was standing in the doorway with Julian.

But I gestured for him to come forward.

"Dad," I said, "this is Dhani..." I took Dhan from George and gave him to dad, who seemed delighted with him... but Dhani wasn't his grandson. When Paul was close enough, I took Julian from his arms, too. "And this is Julian... he's John and Cynthia's technically, but -"  
"He's ours." George interrupted, putting an arm around my waist and smiling at dad. "Mine an' Lo's."

My heart swelled and I had never felt more love for a person than I had in that moment.

I turned to Paul, "is dinner ready? Do you need some help cooking it?" I wanted to give George, Dhani, Julian and dad some time alone.

Paul shrugged, "it's mostly done, but you could help me plate it, I guess." I gave Julian to George, kissed his cheek and then darted off of after my brother.

When we were in the kitchen, Paul turned to me, "so," he smirked, "you an' George...?" It was an open ended question.

I nodded, "he's the one, Paul -"  
"Are you sure?"  
I looked at him sharply, "what do you mean by that? Of course I'm sure -"  
"Lo," Paul bit his lip, hesitating. I readied myself for what I was sure would be a piece of useless brotherly advice. "Not too long ago, you were talkin' 'bout marryin' John -"  
"But we always knew it'd be George, didn't we?" I asked rhetorically, not taking any of his bullshit. "Paul, George and I aren't just some teenagers in love. We're for each other. Him and me, me and him. We've got Dhani and Julian, and today I told him that we'd have more children -"  
"You _what_?" Paul asked in disbelief, surprise and amusement. "Lo, you've only just -"  
"I know, I know." I winced, hating it when my brother talked to me about my... _female health_. "But after that... Paul, what's to stop us from doing it all? From marrying tomorrow, even? This time in a year, we could have another baby, dad and Angie might've -"  
" _Oh God_ ," Paul groaned, putting his head in the hand, "don't say that. I don't think I could handle another half sibling... especially if she's anywhere near as annoyin' as you!"  
I giggled, elbowing him in the side, "quiet, Paulie, or I'll tell Jane about what goes on on tour -"  
"How do you...?"

"If John does it, then the rest of you do, too." I crossed my arms against my chest.

"Y'know that means that George -"  
"As long as I don't have to hear about it, I don't think I care... or I don't for the time being, anyway." I turned to looked at Paul, putting my arms around him. "Thank you for being my brother, and for always having my back."  
Paul hummed in reply, returning the cuddle. "Anytime, y'know. I love you... and your two little lads -"  
"Soon to be three." I teased him.

Paul sighed, "don't start that again!"

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	62. Chapter Sixty-One

**_June 18th 1969_ **

"George!" I called up the stairs, "hurry up!" His groaning could be heard from the bedroom. I sighed and turned to Julian, who was standing beside me. "Run up and tell him that we're leaving soon."

"Mum -"  
"Please, Jules." I said, "I can't get up there in one trip, y'know that."

He sighed and went to do as he had been told. I turned and went into the kitchen.

"Good morning, darling." I said as I dropped a kiss on the top of Dhani's head. He was eating an unbuttered slice of bread. "Dhan, do you want me to do that for you?"  
He looked at the bread and then shook his head, "it's okay, mummy."  
I smiled at his little accent, marvelling at how like George's it was despite the fact that he'd never even been to Liverpool. George and I had meant to take him, but we just never had found the right moment to go.

"Where's -"

"Here we are, then." George said as he came into the kitchen, Julian trailing behind him and Nancy in his arms. He put her in the seat beside Dhani before he came over to me, kissing my cheek and then my lips. We shared a precious few seconds before Nance was screaming and Dhani was squealing.

"What happened?" I asked in a resigned tone of voice, going over to the two of them. "Dhan? What did you do to her?"  
"I didn't do anything!" Dhani protested, chucking his piece of bread across the breakfast bar in anger.

"Dhani!" I snapped, "pick it up!" I was not in the mood today.

"Mummy -"  
"Not now, Jules," I said, looking down at him quickly before I looked at Dhani, who was not doing as he had been told and picking the bread up. Nancy was crying. "George, can you...?" I gestured to her.

George swooped in and picked his daughter up, cuddling her tightly and speaking to her quietly to try and find out what had happened.

"Dhani pinched me!" Nancy cried.

George comforted her and shot a glare at Dhani, "Dhan, you know not to -"

"Mummy -"  
" _Julian_ ," I said for the second time, "I'm busy dealing with Dhan and Nance. Not now, okay?" I didn't even turn to look at him. I sat beside Dhani in the chair that Nancy had been sitting in, "Dhan, why did you -"  
"Nancy pinched me!" He pointed at his sister and I sighed, rubbing my fingertips against my temples. I was halfway to crying. I just couldn't deal with this today.

I took several deep breaths before I looked at Dhani and Nancy, ignoring Julian who was tugging on George's tucked in shirt.

" _Right_ ," I stood up, "I don't care who started it, or why. I want the two of you back here, eating your breakfast - Dhani, I want you to pick up the bread - Julian, I -"  
"Mummy, I -"  
I stood up. I couldn't take one more second. I left the room, ignoring the cries of my three children, unable to stop feeling like I was a bad mother. Why was it so much easier to parent them when they were babies? Life with a six year old, a five year old and a four year old was difficult enough, but being eight months pregnant in the stifling heat of mid-June was just the icing on the cake.

I heard George sorting the children out and telling them that he was just going to see if mummy was alright. My heart swelled with love for him. He was so good at being a father and a husband, and I didn't deserve him.

"Hey," he said softly as he came into the library - which was stacked with the books that the previous owner of the house had owned. We had moved in just over six months ago when we had found out that I was pregnant again because we knew that we needed to move Nancy into her own room and also split Julian and Dhani up and give them their own rooms. There simply hadn't been enough bedrooms at the last house. "You okay?" He sat beside me and immediately looped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

I shook my head, wiping away my stray tears, "Georgie, I don't know how I can do it... three's hard enough... and now we're late to Paul's birthday and they're nowhere _near_ ready to go -"  
"Shush," George hushed me gently, pressing a soft, loving kiss to the side of my head. "Julian's goin' to get Nancy ready, I'm going to get Dhani when I'm done here. You're going to go dry your eyes and then wait in the car for us. We'll be ten minutes, I promise."

He always managed to sort me out.

I smiled and leaned my head against his shoulder, "I love you, George." I said quietly to him.

"I love you too, luv." George whispered into my ear.

We had a few seconds to ourselves - which was more than we usually got - before Julian could be heard from the other room, "dad!"  
George got up and left the room to see what was wrong. I stood up and went to dry my eyes. George was right. I could do this.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	63. Chapter Sixty-Two

"You're here!" A very pregnant Linda McCartney exclaimed as soon as she opened the front door to us. George was holding Nancy and Jules and Dhani were standing either side of him. All three of the kids idolised him, but especially Nancy.

Linda stepped over the threshold and hugged me - or tried to, given that we were both pregnant; she at seven months and me at eight. She squeezed Nancy's cheeks, greeted George and then told Julian and Dhani to go into the kitchen and help themselves to a drink. They raced off but Nancy stayed with George. Linda turned and led us inside, through the house and out again, down some stone steps and then we were finally in the garden. Everybody was already there; Paul was at the barbecue cooking, Ringo and Maureen were sat at the patio table, drinks in their hand - Maureen was holding their youngest child, Jason, and Linda's daughter, whom Paul had adopted, was running around the garden with Ringo and Maureen's oldest son, Zak. 

Shortly after we emerged, Julian and Dhani ran down the steps. I cringed, imagining one of them or the both of them dripping over and hurting themselves - I hated seeing either of them cry.

"Boys!" I called, "be careful!"  
They sprinted over to Heather and Zak, and they immediately started playing together. George led the way over to Ringo and Maureen and sat in the seat beside Ringo, he then moved Nancy to sit in his lap.

"Hello, sweet girl." I heard Ringo greet Nancy as I walked past and went straight to Paul.

"Hey," I said to him. Paul put the tongs down and faced me, opening his arms. I hugged him. "Happy birthday."  
"And you, Lo." He kissed the top of my forehead, "you're the size of a very large watermelon, now." He observed teasingly, looking at my stomach, "baby Harrison keeps getting bigger, eh?"  
"Don't you start too," I chided with a smile, "George is convinced there's two -"  
" _Two_?" Paul chuckled, "the amount you two -"

I narrowed my eyes and he cut himself off.

"Umm," he paused, looking back at the steaming meat, "right.. ribs? Sausage?"

I chuckled and turned, going to sit with my husband and our friends. Linda was playing around with Heather and the boys; Zak, Julian and Dhani, so it was just the four of us with Jason and Nancy.

"I'm still going to be godfather, aren't I?"  
I bit my lip, nodding at Ringo. "And Mo's going to be godmother -"  
"I thought John was coming today?" Maureen interrupted, looking around the garden of 7 Cavendish Avenue as if he would suddenly appear.

I sighed, "he sends his apologies, but he is off with _Yoko_."  
"Oh," Maureen bit her lip, " _her_."

I nodded, "yeah." I paused, "he came around last week to ask if he could take Dhani and Jules for the weekend; apparently Yoko had her daughter for a few days and he wanted the three of them to meet."  
George chuckled, "tell 'em what you told 'im."

George had been very proud of me when I had relayed the story to him. He had been at the studio with Paul and Ringo at the time, but John had neglected to show up to the EMI Studios at Abbey Road that day, and instead had shown up on _our_ doorstep. I had not been happy.

_"Dhan! Stop hitting your sister!"_

_Nancy was screaming. Julian was singing loudly from the music room. My ears were ringing and my head felt as though it was splitting in half._

_Somebody knocked at the door and I rolled my eyes. That was all I needed. I was in no need to entertain company today, and we weren't expecting anybody so I didn't know who it would be._

_I went to open the door, and as soon as I saw who was standing on the doorstep, my jaw dropped._

_"John?" I exclaimed in disbelief and annoyance._

_"Hello, Lo luv!" John ducked to kiss my cheek, but I swerved, taking a step back._

_"What do you want?" I asked sourly, "I thought you were supposed to be in the studio today?"  
_

_"I wanted to come an' see my boys." John pushed past me, looking around the house. "Nice 'ouse you got 'ere."  
_

_I nodded, "yeah. Thanks. Why are you here?"  
"I told you," he looked back at me briefly before leading the way to the living room and taking a seat, "I'm 'ere to see my boys."  
"Your boys?" I laughed, raising an eyebrow as I crossed my arms against my chest, "John, you've never done a thing for either of them. George is their dad. He pays for everything; the house, their food, their clothes, their toys and their education. Anything Jules or Dhan ask for, he gets. He treats them no differently than he does Nancy."_

_"Well they're not_ his _children." John pointed out unkindly._

_I sighed and sat down, feeling exhausted, and not entirely because of the existence of the man that I had once thought I had loved. I hoped that the boys and Nancy weren't nearby because I didn't want them hearing the conversation that we were having._

_"It doesn't matter whose children they are biologically." I paused, "John, I married George, why can't you accept that?"  
"I have, Charlotte." John paused, "I married Yoko, didn't I?"  
I shrugged, feeling the baby inside of me kicking. I put a hand absentmindedly over where its little feet protruded from me, and I watched John watch my movements. I knew he was remembering how, once upon a time, it had been Dhani in there - Dhani who I felt constantly, and it had been John who had been at my side, then._

_"John, why do you want them_ now _? You haven't come near or by them in the best part of a year. I don't think Dhani even_ remembers _you."_

_"Yoko's got Kyoko for the weekend, and I want the boys to meet their sister -"  
"She's not their sister." I said vehemently. I didn't hate the little girl, I hated her mother. My children would not be going near or by Yoko Ono Lennon as long as I had power over them... even if that meant that they couldn't see John._

_"Julian isn't Nancy's brother, but -"  
"John, I'd like you to leave." I stood up, "now."_

_"I don't think -"  
"Don't make me call George." I sighed, "or worse, Paul."_

_I caught the worried look which flashed across John's face, and only somebody who knew him very well would have noticed the momentary lapse in nonchalance which he usually displayed._

_"What're they going to do?" He asked, almost in a jeering way. "Serenade me out the door?"  
I shrugged, "do you _really _want to find out?" I asked him, "going by the things I hear about what's happening in the studio, I doubt they'd be very pleasant to you. You're ruining the only good thing that you've all always had, and you'll regret it, John."  
John stood up and went into the hallway, heading for the front door. I followed him to make sure that he didn't speak to any of the children if he encountered them on his way out._

_He stopped in the middle of the doorway, one hand on the knob and one tucked into the pocket of his jacket. John turned back to me._

_"Yoko is the only good thing that I've ever had." And then he closed the door behind him with a final slam._

I was tearing up at the memory, and it was only as Ringo passed me a white cotton handkerchief that I realised it. I thanked him with a smile for the handkerchief, wiped my tears, and then made to pass it back. Ringo held up his hand, stopping me.

"I don't like him around Dhani and Julian," I bit my lip as I looked off at my two boys, "he's into... _harder things_ than LSD and pot, now."  
George and Ringo nodded in agreement, "sometimes he comes to the studio with _her_ , and it's like he's somebody completely different."  
"I miss the old John." I sighed, "I'd love for Julian and Dhani to know him as he was, then. Y'know, when we were back home, before all of this Beatle nonsense."

George, Ringo and Maureen all nodded in agreement. Nancy was busy teasing the two-year-old Jason, and Jason was busy laughing. Paul and Linda were over by the barbecue chatting together, and the children were playing underneath a tree further down the garden. It was so serene, but I couldn't stop thinking about the person who was missing. The last Beatle.

Before we'd been boyfriend and girlfriend, John and I had been best friends... but we'd never really recovered any sort of relationship after we'd broken up. I still missed him. Constantly.

"Food's done!" Paul called before anybody else could reply to my earlier statement.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	64. Chapter Sixty-Three

The minute that I felt my waters break, just two days after my twenty-sixth birthday, I got out of bed and began to tidy up. I changed the bed sheet first, airing off the mattress and hoping that it would dry before George got home from the studio - which I prayed would be early today.

I felt a very sharp pain towards the bottom of my stomach, and knew from experience that it was a contraction. I was a month early, but both of the children that I had carried; Dhani and Nancy, had arrived weeks earlier than they'd been expected, and so I wasn't worried about this third baby being any different... nevertheless, it had been a very sharp kick.

"Jules!?" I called as I slipped on a maternity dress, "Julian!?" There was no answer. I put my slippers on and rested a hand on my belly as I winced. Being so large in the middle of the stifling summer heat was uncomfortable. I went into the hallway, "Nancy? Dhani!?"  
I wondered where the three of them were. George had left for the studio before I had woken up, but he usually got the children up with him and gave them breakfast, settling them down before he left so I could sleep in for a little bit. I loved him for it. I sighed and went downstairs, "Julian!" I called out again, still not receiving a reply. "Hello?"  
I looked in every room before going into the kitchen. I wasn't worried that I hadn't found them yet - George had probably taken them with him to the studio. Occasionally, families were welcome at Abbey Road. Sometimes Paul would bring Linda and Heather, who he had adopted just a few months previously, Ringo and Maureen would put in an appearance with Jason and Zak, and John and Yoko would turn up - though this was becoming very rare, as John, more often than not, preferred to record his vocals away from the others, and usually at night. On the days that he knew there would be the other children for Dhani and Julian to play with, he'd take the boys with him, and Nancy didn't like to be left behind any day, so he took her with him whenever he thought it would be a good idea.

But the band were arguing a lot, and had been for about a year. 

And it was getting worse.

Usually the children were taken in as a way of preventing the arguments - because none of the men wanted to argue around them when they were so young.

I looked at the fridge, and sure enough, there was a note stuck to it with a magnet, George's scrawl visible from across the kitchen. I took the note from the fridge and read through the note.

_Took kids to studio, have some rest. Love you._

I laughed, "rest, indeed..." I said to myself as I opened the fridge and smelt the vegetable biryani that George had cooked the previous evening. "Perfect." I took it, grabbed a spoon and began to eat. It was spicy, too spicy for breakfast, but it was exactly what I needed.

When I had stomached as much of that as I could, I put the bowl in the sink and made my way into the living room, sitting on the settee and picking the phone up from the coffee table at the side of the piece of furniture. I dialled the midwife's number and waited patiently for her to answer.

"Hello, it's Charlotte Harrison?" I said by way of a greeting as soon as she picked the phone up.

"Ah, Mrs Harrison," she said brightly, "is everything okay? We're not scheduled for a check up until next week -"

"My waters broke this morning." I told her, "I've just eaten a biryani, and I'm getting contractions."

"How far apart?" She asked, sounding slightly more hurried than she had done the previous sentence.

"About fifteen minutes." I paused, "actually, probably every twenty."  
"Mrs Harrison, I'm leaving now. Is your husband there?"

"No," I replied, "he's at the studio with the children. I want it to be a surprise for him." The idea had come to me when I'd been eating my biryani breakfast.

"Oh," she said in surprise, "um, okay... and you still want to deliver at home?"

I nodded, humming in reply. "I'll be using one of the spare rooms as my own mattress is slightly damp at the moment," I explained, "I was on it when my waters broke."

"Ah, well not to worry then, dear." The midwife paused, "like I said, I'm leaving now. I'll be about half an hour, I'm sorry I can't get to you sooner -"  
I didn't hear the rest of what she was saying, because at that moment, another contraction washed over me. By the time I had recovered enough to reply, she had hung up. I put the phone back on the hook and then took several minutes to compose myself before I pushed myself up and off of the settee before I made my way back upstairs, changing into a comfortable nightdress before I went to get into bed in one of the lesser used spare rooms. I was reading _Colonel Sun_ , the latest Bond novel, so took that into the room with me, readying myself for a long day of labour.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	65. Chapter Sixty-Four

**George's POV**

Nancy was hungry, Dhani was tired and Julian was bored. It was supposed to have been an interesting day in the studio with them. I had wanted them to play with Heather and Zak, but Heather had been enrolled at the local school and Zak and Jason had gone down with a coughing fit, and so were at home with Maureen.

Paul hadn't showed for work, and neither had John, though I was secretly glad about the latter's absence. I hated taking the kids into the studio when John was there because he always tried to talk and play with Dhan and Jules, who collectively had less memories of John as their father than I had of Hamburg in '62... I had spent a lot of my time in Germany drunk and high on prellies; uppers and downers.

So Ringo and I had neglected the music all day, and instead we'd spent time with the three kids, playing as dragons for the boys and princes for Nancy.

But as I carried Dhani in my arms up the driveway, Julian holding Nancy's hand as the two of them trailed behind me, I couldn't help but think how quiet the house was. All of the lights were off. It was only seven PM, and despite the fact her pregnancy usually left her exhausted, Lo never went to bed so early.

I unlocked the door using one hand and laid the snoozing Dhani down on the chaise longue which was against one of the hallway walls. Julian took Nancy into the kitchen, promising that he could make her a sandwich. I trusted him, so I left him to it. At that moment in time, all I could think of was my wife, and why she hadn't been at the door to greet us.

Every other time I took the kids out with me for the day, she would always be antsy, sometimes phoning to check on them during the long hours which we were gone, but always waiting for us by the door when we got in, no matter the time of the night or day.

Quietly, I went up the stairs, not bothering to remove my shoes. I was in too much of a hurry to see if she was okay.

I switched the light on in our bedroom and saw the mattress with a large stain on it, no sheet. _Where are you, Lo?_ I asked silently.

I went and looked in each of the kids' rooms. She wasn't in any of them.

I passed a closed door, and heard something. Soft murmurs. I opened the door quickly, practically falling into the room in my haste to see if it was really Charlotte in there.

And it was, only the sight that greeted me was better than any I could have ever imagined.

Charlotte was sitting up in bed, her chest bare and a baby sucking on her teat. My eyes widened.

"Lo..." I trailed off, coming further into the room, "you...? Is that...?"

I couldn't finish my sentences.

All I could think about was the little baby that she was holding.

"George!" She exclaimed as loudly as she dared, looking back down quickly at the baby to check that she hadn't startled it. "George -"  
"You've had a busy day, then?" I asked, teasing her as I came and sat on the bed beside her, very quickly moving closer and watching, fascinated, as the baby fed.

"Georgie, this is your son." My boy had finished feeding. She handed him off to me and then produced a shirt from behind her, pulling it over her head very quickly and then turning to me.

I was completely fascinated.

My _son_.

"Jack..." I said in a voice barely more audible than a whisper, "my Jack..."

We had settled on that name a few months ago, agreeing that if the baby was a boy then we would call him Jack Richard, after Ringo.

I teared up as I held him. He was everything that I had ever wanted. I had said that for every one of my children; Dhani - I counted as my own - and Nancy and Jack, who were mine biologically... but Jack felt different. He felt final.

"Lo..." she hummed in reply, her head resting on her shoulder with her eyes closed. She was obviously exhausted. I wondered when the midwife had left. I wondered if Lo was hungry, when she'd last had some water and if she was in pain. As much as I loved holding Jack, I wanted to get out of bed and see to my wife and make sure she was okay... but I couldn't tear myself away from the little boy in my arms. "Lo, he's perfect, well done, I -"  
"Daddy?" Nancy was at the door, Julian and Dhani standing behind her. Their eyes were wide as soon as they noticed that I was holding a baby. I opened my mouth to reply, but Lo was there before I could be.

"Hey," she smiled at the three of them, "come get in... there's someone who wants to meet you."  
The three of them came into the room and climbed onto the bed, Nancy sitting in my lap facing me and the boys sat in the space between mine and Lo's legs.

"This is your little brother, Jack," I said, holding the baby up as best I could so that the three of them had a good view. "He came today while we were at the studio."  
I very purposely avoided wording which would lead to further questions - Lo and I had already tried to draw straws on who was delivering the birds and the bees conversation to the boys.

"My brother?" Nancy asked, leaning forward eagerly and gingerly touching Jack's nose.

I nodded, watching her as she gently stroked his face, avoiding his eyes and mouth. She was as fascinated as I was with him, apparently.

"Another baby, mummy?" Julian asked Lo.

Lo and I chuckled, and then she held out her arms. "Yes, Julian." She replied softly as he climbed into her lap. I noticed her wince, but didn't say anything. "Some people just want big families."  
Dhani was silent, and I knew from experience that that wasn't good.

Charlotte and I weren't sure about Dhani a lot of the time. He wasn't like Julian or Nancy, or even Zak and Heather. Dhani was very different because he found social situations difficult; he didn't play with anybody at the park other than Julian, or somebody that he knew... it had taken him months to warm to Heather, and he still wasn't completely there with her, yet. His emotions could change like the flick of a switch, and sometimes when he changed, he was difficult to calm down. Everything that he did had to be done just so, and that often extended to what Charlotte, Julian, Nancy and me did, too.

And though she would never admit it, I knew that Charlotte was very worried about it. She knew that the behaviour which Dhani displayed was not usual, and she blamed herself for his difficulties. It broke my heart to see her do so. I knew that there was nothing wrong with Dhani, he simply worked differently. He just wasn't neurotypical.

"What do you think of your new brother then, eh?" I asked the three of them, though aiming the question specifically at Dhani. My heart sunk as he got off of the bed and left the room without a single word.

I exchanged a sad, worried look with Charlotte and then I gave her a supportive smile. I gestured for Julian to move so I could pass Jack to Lo, and then I moved Nancy from my lap. I got off of the bed and went to find Dhan.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	66. Chapter Sixty-Five

I knocked gently on the door of Dhani's room. The door was ajar, but I just wanted him to know that I was coming in. He was sitting facing the wall, a toy train in his hand which he was rolling back and forth across the carpet.

"Hey, Dhan..." I said softly as I came further into the room and went to sit beside him, being very careful to keep my distance as I knew that Dhani didn't like to be crowded, and didn't like to be touched unless he initiated it, or he was in a very bad mood. I wondered if that moment to Dhani's usual rule, and if he wanted me to cuddle him. I resisted the urge to try as I might have done with Nancy or even Julian. Instead, I said, "what's up, son?"

Dhani sniffled, but he wasn't crying - it was obvious that he was trying to hold the tears back, though.

"Dhan?" I pushed again, somewhat hesitantly. "It's okay, y'know... I won't tell anyone if you cry."

Dhani raised his head and turned to look at me, still continuing to roll the train back and forth along the carpet.

My heart filled with love at the look on his face. It was one of utter sadness; as if he had been betrayed by the person he loved most. I sighed and opened my arms.

"Come 'ere, lad." Dhan crawled into my lap and I wrapped my arms around him, gently using my hand to push his head against my chest as I rested my chin on the top of his head and occasionally kissed his chocolate brown hair, which Charlotte and I had never managed to work out who he got it from; her or John.

"I-is mummy g-going to f-forget me?" Dhani sniffed, rubbing his nose against my rather expensive shirt... but I didn't care. In fact, this very rare display of affection from Dhani was very special to me.

"Forget you?" I echoed in surprise, "o'course not, Dhan. Your mum loves you - we both do. Why do you think she'd forget you?"  
"She's got Jack, now." Dhani replied, "she always said I was her little boy, but now he's here, she won't need me."  
I sighed, "Dhan, your mum'll always need you. You _are_ her little boy, y'know. Don't ever think she'll replace you or forget you, because that's just silly talk. Jack'll need some extra attention since he's so little, but she'll make time for you, too." Everything I was saying was true. Lo idolised all of our children, but she had always had time for Dhani since he was technically her first, and because he wasn't like other children. Despite quite often being annoyed with him, I knew that she was fiercely protective of Dhani, and she was usually annoyed with herself more than him because she felt like a failure because she couldn't understand him.

"Really, daddy?" Dhani asked.

I nodded, humming in reply. "I tell you what, lad, if you ever want some time with mummy, come an' tell me, an' I'll take Jack for a bit, yeah? That way you can have her all to yourself."  
Dhani thought for a few seconds and then nodded, nuzzling further into my chest. I was anxious to return to Charlotte, but Dhani needed to be my priority for the moment.

"Dhan?" He looked up at me, and I continued to talk when I knew I had his attention, "it'd mean a lot to mummy if you could go say 'ello to baby Jack. She thinks you two'll be best friends." She'd never mentioned this to me, but I knew that Dhani needed a positive image of Jack in his head, or there'd be trouble to come later on.

"But Jack's a baby." Dhani rightly pointed out.

I hummed in reply, "but he's _your_ baby." I struck upon gold and carried on, "Dhan, you're Jack's _big brother_. It's your job to look after Jack, just like it's Jules' job to look after you -"  
"What about Nancy?"

"Nancy can look after herself." For a four year old, Nancy was the toughest kid I knew. I'd seen her argue with Heather despite the girl being three years older than her, and I'd seen her yell and scream at Zak so much that he cried and went running to Ringo. She was a lot like I imagined Lo had been at her age, though I daren't admit it to anybody other than myself.

"Baby Jack?" Dhani asked me.

I nodded, "baby Jack... and he needs his big brother Dhani."  
Dhani sat in silence for a few seconds, perhaps mulling everything over, and then he stood up and dashed back to the spare bedroom where Charlotte was.

 _Job well done, George_ , I said to myself.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬ ****


	67. Chapter Sixty-Six

**_8th August 1969_ **

**Charlotte's POV**

The next few weeks passed quickly and peacefully. Jack was an easy baby; more so than Dhani and even Nancy had been. He settled very quickly whenever he was in George's arms, and mine to a lesser extent. Dhani took to him like a fish to water, Nancy adored him and fawned over him, and Julian - whilst less interested in the new baby - was very happy that he had another brother.

I watched as Paul shucked off his shoes, "you can't be that hot, Paul?" I asked him, gesturing to the discarded sandals. He turned away, going over to speak to John who hadn't brought Yoko to the studio with him that day, which was extremely unusual. He seemed to be in a lighter mood because of it, though we all knew by now not to tell him that because he would only lose his temper and then storm off, effectively rendering the day at the studio a waste.

Linda chuckled, taking my mind off of John's marriage, which made the rest of us unhappy, "of course he's not, but you know he always has to be the rebellious one." She was nine months pregnant, and had a camera resting over the top of her baby bump. I liked Linda, feeling akin to her because she was a fellow American - despite the fact that I had not been to America since I had left for Liverpool in 1961, eight years earlier. The way she spoke was familiar, and she knew the news from the States, which was something that I had never thought to keep up with but decidedly missed. Paul being the rebel was the exact opposite of him, and Linda and I both knew that, however we both laughed at her joke.

"What're you two lovely ladies laughin' at, then?" George asked, coming up beside me, Nancy in his arms, as she so often was.

"Paul's rebellious streak." I replied.

George scoffed, "obviously." He put Nancy down and then took Jack from me, who was sleeping. "How is my little man?"

"An angel." I replied, "but there's no surprise."  
"Oh," Linda said with a smile, putting her hand on her baby bump, "I hope our little one is as good as your's. I don't think I've ever heard a peep out of him."  
I turned to Linda and smiled, "you should see him at two in the morning," I replied, "you'd think the house was coming down on top of him! I'm surprised his little lungs can -"

Iain Macmillan, the photographer for the shoot at Abbey Road, just outside of the boys' EMI studios, clapped his hands, "right!" He cried, "it's very hot out here, and I'm worried that Paul's going to step on something," he looked pointedly at Paul's bare feet. Paul ignored him, continuing to converse with John, who didn't even glance at the photographer, "so let's get on with this."

"Excuse me," George said politely to Linda and I with a charming smile, the same that I had fallen in love with so long ago in Liverpool at the chip shop. He handed Jack to me and then hurried off to join the other Beatles, taking up the rear in the queue. Linda took her camera in both hands and snapped a few shots of them queuing. Paul and Ringo noticed, and posed for her. Linda giggled as Paul did extravagant poses. I looked down at Nancy, who was watching Linda.

"I bet if you asked her, she'd show you how to take photographs too, Nance."

She looked up at me with a curious look on her face and then shook her head, "I want to be in magazines," she told me. I sighed, having expected that. She'd gotten into my makeup the previous week and had come downstairs with lipstick on her eyebrows, eyeshadow in the crease of her lips and mascara (thankfully) on her eyelashes, though I wondered how many times she had stuck herself in the eye trying to apply it.

"Where are the others?" I asked, referring to Heather, Julian and Dhani. Ringo hadn't brought Jason and Zak to the studio, and Maureen hadn't come either. I had come because Linda had phoned to ask if Julian and Dhani could come so they could play with Heather, and I had reminded her of John's ongoing heroin habit, insisting that if they were to come to the studio that day then I needed to be with them to protect them from John - not that I didn't trust George to do it, but I preferred to do it myself.

"They're inside, playing with daddy's guitar." Nancy informed me, "and I think Heather is singing."

"Does daddy know that they're touching his guitar?" I asked her. She shrugged and I sighed, "alright, Nance, go on inside and tell them to be careful with it." She nodded and skipped up the steps of the EMI building, disappearing very quickly. I turned back to the four boys - men. I had to remind myself that they were men now, not boys. They were walking across the zebra crossing, very obviously sweating hot under the sweltering sun, but none of them willing to say it before the others, all of them wanting to get the perfect photograph for the cover of the album. They were nothing if not perfectionists.

Linda was busy snapping photos of them from all angles, crossing in front and behind Iain and ruining several of his shots, though he daren't voice it to her for fear of Paul going off at him - I doubted he would, but I didn't tell that to Iain, who had seemed nice enough when he had come over to greet Linda and I at the beginning of the shoot.

"Lin!" Paul called from the zebra crossing, a very obvious teasing tone in his voice, "will you sit down? You're going to burst!"  
"Oh shove off, you, and get back to your posing!" She called back, the two of them giggling like school children with the most fantastic secret between them.

I watched George and noticed the annoyed ticks on his face. I sighed and looked down at Jack, "I think all this might be coming to an end, my angel," I said quietly so that nobody else would hear me, "and it's a shame, because the world needs _The Beatles_." I paused, "but I think _The Beatles_ are tired of the world," I paused again, "they've been hounded for years, and for what? None of them are happy - well, George and Paul are, and I don't know about Ringo, but John certainly isn't. And they all deserve to be happy, Jack, because who doesn't? I want you to be happy. And Julian, and Dhani and Nancy. I want little Heather and the new baby to be happy, and Ringo's two boys, too. I want everybody to live happily and be happy and wish happiness on everybody else, and I want everyone to love each other, because love is all you need." I looked up at the band once again, who had reached the other side of the road and were now crossing back, "and one day, you're going to know how much your parents love you, and you're not going to believe it. Jack, you make everybody so happy, and I'm so sorry that you won't ever know _The Beatles_ as I did, because that is how everybody deserves to know them."

A few more minutes passed of the band talking quietly, ignoring Iain asking them to cross once more, before George came over to me. "We've all decided that it's okay to finish early today -"  
"But the album -"

"Lo, there'll be plenty o' time to record Paul's hammer song another day. And the day after that. And probably the day after that -"  
"If you're bad mouthing Maxwell again, Geo, I swear..." Paul teased as he came over to join us, Linda under one arm, though I knew from the way that Paul narrowed his eyes at his brother-in-law that he was being serious about the song. George had told me that they'd recorded it almost twenty times over already, and that had just been over the course of two days. I knew that he was at his wit's end with it, but I didn't dare tell Paul. It wasn't my place.

"A song about a homicidal maniac, Paul, is not a good one to put on the album." I had told him this before, and always with a teasing lilt to my voice.

Linda giggled, "it's actually rather good, y'know -"  
"I prefer _Something_." I interrupted, naming the song that George had written for me.

Paul scoffed, "you would. You're biased."  
I scowled, handing Jack off to George. " _Biased_?" I echoed, "because I'm married to George?" Paul nodded slightly, "you're my _brother_ , Paul. You'd think I'd be biased towards your songs, too -"

"Next thing you'll be telling me is you like _Come Together_ or whatever rubbish John's decided to write this week."

I huffed, "why do you bring him into _everything_?"  
"He's in the band, Lo," Paul answered, "he's included in band stuff."

"And I'm not?" I asked, "I was there for you, Paul, in the Cavern. I was there -"  
"Because you had to be, Lo!" Paul snapped, causing Linda to jump in surprise. He settled back down very quickly, but it was already too late. I rushed off and went back into the studio to collect Dhani, Julian and Nancy, ignoring George who called after me.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	68. Chapter Sixty-Seven

George drove us home, and he insisted on holding my hand the entire time, moving both of our hands when he needed to change gears or the wheel required both hands.

"Dhan, what did you play with Heather?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the memory of mine and Paul's disagreement.

He humphed in reply. Nancy answered for him, "Heather drummed and Dhani sang, I played Uncle Paul's guitar and Julian played daddy's -"  
"Uncle Paul's is a bass, Nancy," George corrected her kindly, looking at her in the rear view mirror before turning his attention back to the road, "it's deeper and only has four strings, remember?"  
She nodded, "it looks like a guitar."

"It does," I agreed, biting my lip. "What did you sing, Dhani?"

He was silent, instead leaning his head on Julian's shoulder. I smiled at the sight of them, quickly turning my head back to look out the front window so they wouldn't notice me watching. Dhani hated people to point out when he was affectionate. It was just another quirk of his, and we all loved him for it.

* * * * *

When we got home, the children all rushed off to different corners of the house, leaving just George and I with baby Jack. George took Jack from me and said that he'd put him down for a nap, which I was grateful for, and then told me to put the kettle on. I nodded and went off to the kitchen.

Half an hour later, George returned, and he looked like he was ready to talk. "What was that about with Paul?" He asked as we sat beside each other at the dining table, the both of us with a hand wrapped around our mugs, "you two haven't fought since Dhan was born. What was it about?"  
I huffed, "you know what it was about, George."

"You and Paul have disagreements all the time, but you never _fight_. You never leave without sortin' it. Lo, what's gone on?"

"With me and Paul?" I asked him. George nodded. "Nothing. He's rude, and doesn't respect you as a songwriter or a musician, really. He still treats you like the little boy on the bus, the one who he got into the band."

George sighed, "Lo, you're not arguin' with your brother for _me_ , please tell me you're not."  
" _George_ ," I said desperately, "you deserve to be appreciated... and Paul doesn't. You come home all the time and complain about it, and today was just the fall out."  
George facepalmed, taking several seconds to compose what he was going to say next, "I think that you -" he cut himself off, looking pointedly at me now, " _we_ ," he corrected, "are under far too much stress. I think that things need to change."  
"Stress?" I echoed. "What stress? We've no money problems, we have a house. We've got beautiful children, a happy marriage and good friends -"

"The band is falling apart. I'm unhappy and it's making you unhappy. Next, it'll deflect onto the children. They need to be away from all of this; this life isn't healthy for them... I think they need to be in school."  
I was silent.

"Julian and Dhani at least. Maybe Nancy isn't old enough yet, but she will be in September, I think... Lo, are you listenin' to me?"  
I was staring off into the distance, focused on a spot over George's shoulder. I couldn't believe what he was saying. I knew that he had a point, of course - the children never mixed with anybody other than themselves, and occasionally Heather or Jason and Zak. I knew that they needed to learn basic social skills that they could only learn at school, but the thought of sending my babies away from me for six or seven hours everyday was one that I did not like.

"Lo, y'know I'm right." George laced our free hands together, "I don't want to send them away either, but I think it's for the best..."

I nodded, biting my lip. "I-I know..." I tried to hold back the tears which were brimming in my eyes, "but t-they're m-mine... Georgie, if we send them away now, then this is where it starts, isn't it?" He cocked his head, silently asking me to elaborate, "they'll get other friends, and want to go camping. They'll start growing up and growing away from us, and then it'll be just you and me in a house waiting for them to come and visit us on the weekends."

George couldn't help but chuckle, putting his arms around me and pulling me into his chest, "Lo, we _want_ them to grow up and be independent. We want them to be their own people, have their own friends and their own interests. If we let them go now, then we're giving them the chance to become themselves... and we can be _ourselves_ ," he paused, "and I can show you how much I love you whenever I want to." He waggled his eyebrows and I giggled, unable to stop myself.

"You swine!" I teased, slapping his arm playfully but secretly loving how he always wanted to show his love for me.

"Lo, if you don't want to think about it, I'll sort their school. I'll take them to get uniform, and their books, and well, I don't know what else they'll need but they'll have it all... I really think that this will be the best thing for them."  
"What if they're bullied?" I asked in a quiet voice, another worry coming to my mind as I desperately tried to hold onto my children for as long as possible.

George laughed, "luv, what would they be bullied for?"

"F-for..." I trailed off, unsure if it was okay to mention the childrens' connection to the biggest band in the world and how it might affect them, "f-for _The B-Beatles_ , Georgie..."

"Oh no, Lo," George said softly, correcting me, "they're going to be _adored_ for it. The other children will go home, mention our ones' surname," all of the children had George's last name despite Dhani and Julian being John's sons - George had adopted them officially, "and then their older brothers and sisters will go barmy for it. Lo, they're goin' to have so many friends, I promise."  
I sighed and let myself relax further into his arms, "I hope you're right, George, for their sakes..."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	69. Chapter Sixty-Eight

**George's POV**

Over the next few days, I took the time to select a school for Julian, Dhani and Nancy. Julian and Dhani would be going in full time, and Nancy would be going into nursery school, which was from 9AM to 1PM. When I had found them a school which had places for all of them, I bundled them all up into the back of the car and took them to buy their uniforms, leaving Charlotte at home with Jack.

Since I had mentioned sending the three children to school, she had been despondent around me, spending more time than usual with them and avoiding being alone in my company. She had taken to going to bed as soon as she could, sometimes leaving me to put Jack, Julian, Dhani and Nancy to bed. I hated how we were, because we had always been so close and had never tried to avoid each other.

As I drove to the uniform shop, I thought about her. I thought fondly about our wedding day, and the day that Dhani had been born. I remembered holding Lo's hand as she brought our sweet little Nancy into the world - our first baby together - and then I remembered the previous June, when I had come into the house to find that Lo had spent all day giving birth to Jack... and she had been alone for it. I thought about how, for the last two years or so, I had come into the house after almost every day at the studio and complained about John, or her half-brother.

And it struck me, then.

I was wrong.

I should never have slated Paul's hammer song in front of her. I should never call him a control freak or a monster to her face, as I had done in the past. It hurt her, and it made her as sour as I felt. I should have been _protecting_ her, and not projecting my bad mood onto her or the children.

I pulled the car to a stop outside of the uniform shop and turned around in the seat, looking at the three of the five people who meant more than the world to me.

"D'you think your mum is happy?" I asked them.

Nancy smiled, "she smiles when she looks at baby Jack."

I nodded, "I know, darlin', we all do."

Julian wrinkled his nose, "Jack smells."  
"I know. He's got a bad tummy at the moment." This was true; Charlotte had made an appointment for him with the GP for the next week.

"Can't you fix him, daddy?" Nancy asked me, clutching a doll tightly to her chest. "I don't like the smell."

I sighed, "I try, baby, I try." I paused, "but I want to know if you think mummy is sad?"

"I think mummy misses Uncle Paul." Dhani said, shocking us all because he was usually so quiet.

I nodded, "I know she does, Dhan, I know."

"Why are we here?" Julian asked, looking at the uniform shop out the window.

"Well," I bit my lip, knowing that now was the time to tell them, "your mother and I have agreed that, um, you're not learnin' enough from us at home, so you're going to go to a school -"  
Dhani's eyes widened and my heart plummeted. I knew that he would find it the hardest to adapt to school. "But don't worry!" I exclaimed, knowing that inside, Dhani was hyperventilating, already panicking and overthinking school, "you're goin' to go and make lots of new friends, and learn things, and -"

"Will Heather be there?" Nancy _loved_ Heather. If Heather was doing something, then Nancy would follow suit.

"Um, probably not, darling," I replied slowly, watching Dhani very closely so I could see if he was about to have a tantrum, which he so often did - though his last serious one had been the day that Jack was born. "This is something that you and Heather can't do together, she's older than you." Nancy pouted and I sighed, "come on, kids," I said, "this is _exciting_. I loved school." _Liar_ , I thought to myself, but the three of them didn't need to know that.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	70. Chapter Sixty-Nine

I took the children to get ice cream when we had bought everything that they would need for school, and then drove them home. Lo was home - she'd left Jack's pram to the side of the front door, so I assumed that she had taken him out for a little bit. I stopped the car and Julian and Dhani got out, but Nancy stayed put. 

I turned to her, "you a'right, luv?" I asked her softly, one eye watching the boys' as they climbed the steps to the front door and knocked, waiting for Lo to let them in.

"I think mummy is sad about Uncle Paul."

I nodded slowly before I replied, "I think she is, too, darlin'. Why do you think that?"

"I heard her on the phone to Auntie Linda," Nancy answered, "she was crying." I sighed and looked at Nancy; my perfect little Nancy who had no harm nor malice in her entire body. "You won't tell mummy I listened to her on the phone, daddy?"

I shook my head, "it'll be our secret, Nance." I promised. "Go inside an' tell mummy that I'll be back later, okay?"

She nodded and got out of the car, and I watched her go before I sighed once more and got out of the car momentarily to close the door which Nancy had left open. I then got back in and started the engine, pulling out of the driveway and driving back down the street I had come from.

I had just one destination in my mind.

* * * * *

I parked the car, got out and slammed the door and scaled the steps to Paul and Linda's front door within seconds of entering the gates of 7 Cavendish Avenue.

Linda opened the door, sheer expression on her face as soon as she saw me standing there.

"H-Hi George..." she stuttered.

"Is Paul here?" I asked in a gruff tone, my fists clenched at my sides in anger because of the pain which Lo and Paul's argument was causing her.

"He's in the dome, is there something I can help with?"  
"What did you say to Lo?" I asked her, not aggressively. "She was cryin'. Nancy told me."

"I-I was just tryin' to help -"  
" _Linda_ ," I said, "what did you _say_?"

"Paul's angry, George, I was just trying to defuse the tension between them and told her not to call round for -"

"You told her to stay away from her own _brother_?" I snapped, "Linda, you can't do that! They're all each other has -"  
"But Jim -"  
"Is in the Wirral with Angie and Ruth - he doesn't have time for Lo or Paul!"

"Paul has me -"  
"And Charlotte has me, but it's not the same! They _need_ each other, Linda!"  
She winced, "don't _shout_ at me, George -"

"I need to see Paul." I pushed past her, making sure not to be too forceful lest I knock her over, and I went through the house and into the garden. Heather was playing with some dolls in the corner, but I ignored her as I stormed over to Paul's dope dome which was in the centre of the garden. I pushed the door open and went inside. He sat bolt upright and glowered at me.

"What do you want, George?" He asked in an angry, yet resigned tone, "is Lo with you?"

"No." I answered, "just me... we need to talk, Paul."  
He was silent for several seconds, then bowed his head in a nod, gesturing to the cushion across from him. "Yeah," he agreed, "a'right."

I sat and got comfortable before I said, "you need to make it up with Lo."

He nodded, "I know."

"And it's not that you should be sorry, or she should, because I don't really understand what happened, but she's _sad_ , Paul. God, she's so sad. She mopes, and now she's ignorin' me and -"  
"George, _I know_ I have to make it up with her." Paul interrupted me, "she's my sister and we argued over nothin'." I was silent. "It just feels like we argue more and more now and I don't know why. I hate fightin' with her. She's my sister - my best friend, even -"

I hung my head, "she won't talk to me, Paul." I hesitated, "it's like we're livin' in a constant argument, she always ignores me."

"Have you argued?"  
I shook my head, "not once. Never even a cross word... she just avoids me. I feel like she hates me."  
"Charlotte _loves_ you, George..."  
"I know, but I think she hates me now, too."

"Why would she do that?"  
"Because everytime I come home and complain about a day in the studio, she takes it in. Every time I say you're a controlling piece of -"  
"Just remember I'm present, this time, eh?" Paul teased, though he obviously was being serious.

I nodded, "yeah, um... so everytime I say something bad about you, she takes it in. I think she resents me for it, now..." I bit my lip, "I've started to wonder if we're goin' to get through -"  
"Don't be daft, George." Paul said softly, "you an' Lo are forever, we all know that. I think that's why John brings Yoko in so often - because he knows that if he sees you and Lo, then he's goin' to realise what he lost. It's been you and Lo since 1961. You've got four children together, and a good marriage. George, it'll always be you and her." Hearing him say all that made me feel better, but I couldn't stop thinking about the hurtful ways that she had been ignoring me since we had returned from Abbey Road after the photoshoot.

"She's so sad, Paul..." I said quietly, "we both are."  
Paul nodded, "I-I think I feel the same." This was new territory for Paul and I; we'd never shared our feelings before, but it felt so important at that moment. We sat in silence for a few seconds, Paul idly watching Heather play out of one of the glass panels of the dome and me playing with the fringe of the cushion that I was sitting on. "It won't last much longer, George." Paul said quietly.

I knew exactly what he was referring to.

"When?" I asked in a tone that was just as quiet.

Paul shrugged, "today, tomorrow... soon. I can't keep doing this. Like you said, it's makin' everybody unhappy; not just the four of us, and nothing is worth that."

I nodded slowly, agreeing with what he had said wholly.

"So what do we do after?" I asked.

"We find a way to be ourselves, and not one of four. We keep going; making music or whatever we want. We've got the money to do it all now, George, the rest is up to us."

The band was over, it was only a matter of time. I needed to process that. I needed to tell Charlotte, and the children.

I stood up, "I-I need to go..."

Paul nodded, "thanks for comin' to see me, George." He said, which shocked me a little as he had never thanked me for visiting in the past, "and I'll make it up with Lo later, okay?"  
"You won't leave it for days, Paul?" I asked him, "she needs somebody to be there for her when she can't come to me."  
Paul promised, "I'll pop by later today."

I left 7 Cavendish Avenue feeling accomplished and very sad at the same time; I had done something wonderful for my wife, but I had just received the news that the one constant that had been in my life even longer than Charlotte was over. _The Beatles_ were a thing of the past, and would not be coming into the next decade with us.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	71. Chapter Seventy

**Charlotte's POV**

"Nancy?" I asked my daughter, "where's daddy?"  
She shrugged, "he'll be back later, he said."

"But did he say where he was going?" She shook her head and I sighed, "okay, Nance, go and play."  
She climbed off of the settee and hurried off. I sat down, embracing the moment of silence as Nancy was playing, Julian and Dhani were listening to the radio in the other room and Jack was napping after I had taken him for a stroll earlier that day.

I rested my forehead in my hand and sighed once more. I constantly had a headache. I was so confused. I had argued with Paul and I was annoyed about it, but I missed him. I had had cross words with Linda, but I didn't dislike her - I knew that she was simply trying to do the best for Paul. I wanted to be there for her as she came to the end of her pregnancy and Paul's first baby was born, but I didn't know if she wanted me around.

But most of all, I missed George.

We'd grown apart the last few days. I had had so much on my mind since I had argued with Paul and read the elephant in the room.

 _The Beatles_ were ending. It was only a matter of time.

I had been ignoring George, and his needs. I had been obstinate and I had left the children to him many nights when I had gone to bed - but not because I wanted to escape them, rather that I needed the peace and the rest to mull over what had happened between my older brother and myself.

Somewhere in the house, a phone was ringing, but I ignored it.

"Mummy!" Julian called from his bedroom, which was next to Dhani's so the two could still play together.

I sighed and stood up. There was never any peace in the house. I went to answer the phone, checking that Nancy and the two boys were playing happily and that Jack was sleeping okay before I did. By then, the first call had finished and another had started though it was most likely the same person just calling back.

"Hello?" I asked, purposely not giving my name in case it was a fan who was calling.

"Put the kettle on, Lo, I'm leaving now." And then my persistent caller - Paul - hung up. My heart was thudding in my chest. _Paul's coming!_ I could hardly get over how happy I was about that.

I hurried into Dhani's room first, "Uncle Paul's coming!" I then went into Nancy and Julian's rooms, exclaiming the same thing.

Nancy was the only one who responded, standing up and throwing her arms into the air, shrieking, "Uncle Paul! Heather! Auntie Linda!"  
She adored Paul, Heather and Linda, and I was sure that she'd be the same with the new baby because she was so wonderful with Jack. She wanted to help me care for him all of the time, which was sometimes quite exhausting because I constantly had to fight her off, but it was a wonderful feeling to know that the two siblings would have each other for life - and they'd always have their two older brothers, also.

"Lo!" I jumped, hearing the front door slam and George's voice echo throughout the house. I ran to the top of the staircase and saw him standing in the hallway below, looking directly up the staircase and at me. He looked like he was waiting for something terrible to happen, a wince already half on his face.

But I was happy again now that Paul was coming, and I was confident that everything would be resolved. I ran down the stairs, throwing myself into his arms. George caught me just in time, but took several step backs as he fought to stabilise both of our weights.

When I looked at his face, his smile was contagious. I realised how much I had hurt him - just having me in his arms had him grinning like a Cheshire cat or a kid on Christmas morning. He kissed me, one of his hands going to my chin so he could hold me to him. The moment was perfect.

"I've missed you..." he said quietly as he pulled his lips from mine, a thin string of saliva connecting us still.

"I'm sorry, Georgie," I replied in a tone just as quiet, not wanting the children to overhear us, "I've been a horrible wife. I shouldn't have ignored you, I've just... I've had a lot on my mind the last few days, what with Paul and the band and -"  
"You know about the band?" George asked in surprise and disbelief, his voice going up by an octave.

"I worked it out." I told him, "and I didn't say anything to you because I know it's everything to you -"  
" _You_ are everything to me," George said in a hard tone, looking straight into my clear, crystal blue eyes. "You and the children, of course... music is important, but it's nothin' compared to my family. I could lose music, and I could lose the band, but I couldn't lose any of you."

I hugged him again, wondering how I had ever pushed such a sweet man away from me.

"We feel the same way about you..." I promised. George tightened his arms around me and then looked over my shoulder, smiling at something behind me. I turned, "what're you -?"

When I saw Nancy standing there, I smiled too. "How long've you been there?" George asked as he removed his arms from me and instead went over to his daughter, kneeling down so he could talk to her on an even level, "you weren't listenin', were you? Y'know mummy hates it when you do that."  
She smiled and shook her head. "Did you do it, daddy?" She whispered into George's ear, though she wasn't very good at whispering so I heard every word.

George nodded and took her into his arms, standing up and resting her on his hip. "I think you're gettin' too big for me to hold you like this, darling." George said softly to her, "it'll have to be little Jack's turn, soon -"  
"NO!" She looped her arms around his neck possessively and George and I smiled. He looked at Nancy like she was the sunshine in his sky, and I knew why.

Nancy was George's first child, biologically. Of course, he loved Julian and Dhani and treated them no differently to how he treated Nancy, but she was very special to him and he loved her differently than he did the others; barring Jack, of course, who was also biologically his child.

But he would never voice that to me, or Julian or Dhani... I doubted that he'd ever tell anybody, actually. I didn't even know if he knew that he loved Nancy and Jack differently, or if it was something that only somebody looking in could see... I hoped not, because I didn't ever want Jules or Dhani to notice and I knew that George wouldn't want that, either.

There was a knock on the door and I jumped out of my revelry, turning away from the beautiful sight of George and Nancy to answer the door. In my hurry to be with George and my wandering mind at the sight of my husband and daughter, I had almost forgotten that my brother was coming over... and I had forgotten to put the kettle on.

As soon as I opened the door, it was as if we had never quarrelled. Paul took me into his arms and I hugged him back, the two of us muttering hurried apologies before I grabbed his arm and pulled him into the living room, our argument completely forgotten about and smiles on our faces like we were teenagers back in our shared bedroom in Forthlin Road, Liverpool, once more.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	72. Chapter Seventy-One

I sat down opposite my brother, ignoring his silent plea for a cup of tea. I had missed him far too much to leave his company for a few minutes to boil the kettle. _Perhaps George will be happy to make some in a moment_ , I thought to myself. I opened my mouth, but all I could do is smile at Paul.

"Don't look at me like that, Lo." Paul furrowed his well-shaped eyebrows.

"Like what?" I asked, the smile hanging slightly askew on my face, "like I'm happy to see you? I I am, Paul."  
"No," he sighed, "like I've got all the answers. You've always done it."

"You _have_ got all the answers, Paul. Whenever I've had a question, you gave me the answer. You're my big brother, of course I look at you like the sun rises out of your arse."

He chuckled, "that's a new way of putting it -"

"An Americanism." I replied, "I picked it up from Linda -"  
"My wife teaching my little sister naughty words?" Paul teased, pretending that he was surprised, "I'll have to have a word with her - _punish_ her, even."

I pretended to gag, "oh please, I'm going to boke!"  
Paul laughed, "serves you right, you little minx!" We both laughed and it felt like old times. I wondered if he ever thought about when we we had been younger and I had first come to Liverpool. In the year or so that I had lived with dad, Mike and Paul before we'd moved to London, we'd become like a real family, and it had been heart wrenching to have to leave - though I knew that I would be safe and cared for as long as Paul was around and George was at my side.

"What're you thinking about?" I asked Paul suddenly when I realised that he had gone quiet and was staring at the patterned carpet, his brows knitted together and his chin perched on his fist, his arm leaning on the side of the armchair which he had settled himself in.

"Hm?" He hummed in reply, pulling his attention back to me.

I crossed my arms against my chest, "you were so deep in thought that you didn't even hear me, Paulie," I paused, "what were thinking about?"  
"Oh, um," he bit his lip, turning red. Ah, so he was embarassed about whatever it was, then.

"The fact that you just told your sister that you were going to _punish_ your wife?" I asked, only half-joking with him.

He chuckled quietly and then shook his head, his long hair moving along with him like it had a life of its own.

"No," Paul replied, "I was thinking about the new baby."

"Yours and Linda's?" I raised an eyebrow, "why?"

"Well I'm..." Paul sighed, "I'm a bit nervous - what if I'm no good as a father?"  
"Oh, Paul," I breathed as I got off of the settee and came to sit on the side of his armchair, putting my arms around his neck and pulling his head to my stomach, giving him comfort. "Of course you'll be great as a father. You're great with Heather -"

"But babies are different, aren't they?" Paul asked rhetorically, "babies need constant looking after. With Heather, I can leave her for a bit to play with her dolls or to watch some television."

I tried a different tactic, "what makes you think that you _wouldn't_ be a good father?"  
"I just have a bad feelin' -"  
"You've been great with Dhani, and Nancy and even Jack." I pointed out, "and I remember how you were when Julian was born. Paul, you wouldn't put him down." I paused, "and Ringo's two love you, too."

"But if it's my own, then I can't just hand the baby back when it cries, can I?"

I giggled at his words and carded my fingers through his hair. "Paulie, you're going to be a great dad. I promise you that. From what I've seen over the last eight years and," I paused to count how many children had been born, "six babies," I was sure that was right. _Julian, Dhani, Nancy, Jack and Zak and Jason_ , "you're going to be a fine father."

Paul let out a deep breath and I noticed that he was smiling. "I just don't want to mess up. Linda's so excited, and everytime she mentions that Heather did as a baby, I freeze because I usually don't know what to say or do," he paused, "I've never had a baby in my life full time before, Lo."  
I nodded, "before Dhani, neither had I. Julian was almost a toddler when I got him. I had to learn it all, but it's not as difficult as you think because you have somebody that you love by your side. In my case, I had George. But you've got Linda _and_ Heather. Isn't Heather excited about the baby?"  
Paul smiled at the thought of his adopted daughter, "she likes to lay with her head against Linda's stomach and her legs in my lap."

"You'll all be fine." I promised him, "it's a bit of a change, but you get used to it... though my advice is to sleep when you can -"  
George popped his head round the side of the door, clearing his throat so we knew that he was there.

"Jack's awake." He gestured to the baby in his arms, "and he's hungry, I think." George looked down at Jack, who was bright red and looked like he would start screaming any moment.

I answered hurriedly, "give him here, Georgie." I held out my arms and George put Jack in them. I cradled my youngest close to my chest and smiled at him, ignoring George who was watching me with a fascinated look on his face, "see, Paul?" I asked, glancing up momentarily to spot my brother with his eyes fixed on Jack, "being a parent is easy when it comes, because it's just natural."  
George looked at Paul, "you nervous, then?"

Paul shrugged, not wanting to seem like he was weak in front of George, which was something that had always been between them. To Paul, George was the baby and needed looking after, but I believed that George had seen more of life than Paul, though I would never voice that to either of them. I knew that things were difficult in the band at the moment and that the tension between them was coming to the top of the bottle, and so I also knew that there was some difficulties between George and Paul because of that.

"I'll make some tea." George turned and left the room, leaving me with Paul.

"When Linda feeds the baby," I said to Paul as I gently put Jack under my top and moved my bra aside so he could latch onto one of my nipples, "don't ogle. We don't like it."

Paul nodded, looking as if he was mentally taking notes. Jack latched on and I winced at the initial pain, but I very quickly relaxed.

"And obviously, try to be as supportive of everything she does as you can be." I paused, looking down the neckline of my top to check that Jack was okay. He was, suckling happily on my breast. I tightened my hold on him and then turned back to Paul, "in the weeks and months after the baby's born, your hormones are high, and it only takes something small to set a woman off. _Do not_ say anything mean, or that she might interpret as unkind."

Paul sighed, "Lo, she takes _everything_ as me being unkind."  
"It's just her way, Paul," I replied, "pregnant women are very touchy." We sat in silence for ten minutes or so, just enjoying each other's company. When Jack had finished, I brought him out from underneath my top and readjusted my bra. He needed winding, but I turned to the side of me and placed him in Paul's arms. "You do it." I told him, "practise." Not that he really needed to, of course. Paul had always had a way with children.

Surprisingly, he seemed unsure at first despite the fact that he had winded all of my children at one time or another, but he very quickly relaxed. Jack settled as soon as the wind was gone, and then Paul rocked him softly until he went back to sleep.

"And newborns sleep _constantly_." I said quietly to Paul as I stroked my now-sleeping son's head, "so it's not really that hard." I paused, "the trick is to get your sleep when they do."

Paul nodded, a concentrated look on his face as if he were still taking notes.

"You're so good at this whole parentin' lark, aren't you, Lo?" He looked up at me as if I had all of the answers. I never had. It had always been me looking at him, waiting for him to tell me what to do.

I shrugged, "it comes naturally, Paul," I repeated, "as soon as you hold your baby, you're willing to fight the world for them... and nothing ever compares to that feeling, or changes it. Julian, Dhani and Nancy are starting school in September, and I don't know what I'll do if I hear that they're being bullied or that people are being unkind to them -"  
"You're sending them?" Paul asked in surprise, still cradling Jack and supporting his head, which he was not yet strong enough to hold up by himself.

I nodded, "George and I both agree that it will do them good to get out a bit and meet other people - and we don't really teach them much at home, so it's for the best."  
Paul chuckled, "you don't sound so sure."

"I trust George's judgement, and he says it'll be good for them." I swallowed, "I know it'll be hard to let them go, though."

Paul smiled, "you'll be a'right, Lo -"  
"And so will you, Macca."  
Paul beamed at the use of his old nickname before he leaned his head against me once more.

"How did we get here?" He asked. I hummed in reply, waiting for him to explain what he had meant by his question, "married with children? A mortgage? A band that's crumbling? A -"  
I cut him off, knowing that he was about to spiral into a panic, "hard work and motivation." I replied. "And love. We got here using a worn path that began in Liverpool -"  
"America for you."

"Don't interrupt my metaphor." I chided teasingly. Paul pulled an apologetic face, pouting his lips out like a child, and I giggled before I continued. "We travelled a path in Liverpool and along the way we found love -"  
"You found love in Liverpool."  
"I learnt how to love in Liverpool," I corrected, "but I don't think I truly realised how much I loved George until we got to London and everything went wrong..." I regarded my short-lived relationship with John an accident, though Dhani, as a consequence, was by no means regretted. In fact, I believed that it was the upcoming birth of Dhani that had brought George to me once they had returned from America in 1964. He had always loved me, and had always cared, and I would spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my colossal mistake of believing that I had loved John more than I loved George.

Paul looked at his watch and sighed, "sorry, Lo," he said, standing up and handing the still-sleeping baby Jack to me, "I need to be getting back - I told Linda I'd be home in time for dinner."

I smiled lovingly at him, "okay... and don't be a stranger. Even if the band is over, please don't ever become somebody who isn't in my life every day. I couldn't bear that."

Paul smiled back at me with the same expression and took me into his arms.

"I'll pop by every Sunday for a cup o' tea and a butter pie." He dropped a kiss to my forehead and then left the house, closing the front door behind him.

" _Butter pie_?" I said to myself, wondering what on Earth that was.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	73. Chapter Seventy-Two

**_22nd August 1969_ **

"Dhani," I said in an exasperated tone, "you _have_ to wear this." I held out the sweet little shirt which I had bought for him a few weeks previously, "you _have_ to look nice."  
"But it's hot outside!" He complained, pointing to the window.

"I know, but -"

"I don't want to wear it."  
"Dhan, come on." I pleaded with him, my patience wearing thin. I envied George, who had the job of getting Julian, Nancy and Jack ready to go. Three children were easier than just Dhani.

I sighed and sat down on the settee, feeling exhausted and aware that it was barely 9AM.

"I want to wear my cape," Dhani said, gesturing to the red cape which was attached around his neck. "Mummy, I want to be a _super hero_."

"But I really need you to wear this today, Dhan." I tried again, "it's not often that I care about what you wear, is it?" 

"What's going on?" George asked as he came into the room. I looked behind him and saw that Nancy and Julian were talking quietly in the hallway, Jack in the pram beside them. The three of them were quite content.

I turned to George, "he just won't put it on."

George took the shirt from me and turned to Dhani, "Dhan, what's wrong with this shirt, eh?"

"I want to wear my cape!" Dhani cried. I watched as George dealt with him, feeling slightly guilty that I was forcing my son into doing something that he didn't want to for the sake of a man that I disliked and a woman that I loathed.

"But this shirt's like mine." George held it up against his own chest, the shirt that he was wearing was almost exactly the same as his navy one. "You want to look like your old dad, don't you?"

Dhani bit his lip and crossed his arms against his bare chest, very obviously at a crossroads - and that was where George would have him, I knew.

"Dhan, red and blue look good together, y'know." My husband paused, "why don't you wear the shirt, but bring your cape with you? Then you can be a super hero for a bit and my best boy the rest o' the time." Dhani beamed at the nickname which George had used for him, and I knew that he had been won over.

Dhani took the shirt from George's outstretched hand and hurried to put it in, forgetting that he was wearing his cape as he tried to do the shirt up over the top of the red material. I chuckled and got off of the settee, kneeling down and undoing the cape gently so I didn't startle Dhani into another tantrum. I laid it on the floor beside us and then set about straightening the shirt and buttoning it up for him. When I was done, I took a few seconds to appreciate how smart my Dhani - my firstborn - looked. I smiled at George, who was hovering very closely behind Dhani. George smiled back and I gave Dhani a kiss on the forehead.

"Just be nice to John today, Dhani."  
" _And_ Yoko?" Dhani asked for clarification.

I sighed and nodded. "I know she can be strange at times, but she cares about you, really."  
Dhani was too young yet to understand that George wasn't his biological father, but I knew that Julian suspected. He too, didn't know about his true parentage for sure, but both George and I planned to explain it to Julian before he went to school... and Dhani when the time came.

"And if it all gets too much for you, Dhan," George said softly as he came around the side of Dhani and knelt down beside me, putting a hand on my knee to comfort me and then taking one of Dhani's hand in his free one, "then let me or your mum know, yeah?"

Dhani nodded. "I d-don't like Yoko..."

"I know, I know." George said, "but she likes you, just like mummy said. Sometimes you have to make the effort with people who are difficult to get along with, because they're worth it in the end."

I wasn't sure if that philosophy applied to the bitch that was Yoko Ono, but I didn't dare interrupt George's little speech.

"Okay," I said, bringing them back to the present, "let's go, then, or we'll be late."

* * * * *

We arrived at Tittenhurst Park; John and Yoko's home, and we were late. Ringo and Maureen and their two boys were there, and Paul was there with Linda and Heather. As soon as George stopped the car in front of where the others were all crowded, I notice John looked directly into the backseat and at Julian and Dhani, who always sat beside each other in the car. I was holding Jack since the car wasn't big enough for his car seat - George had promised to buy a larger one as soon as he found one that was nice.

I got out first and then George, and we both opened the childrens' car doors. Nancy climbed out of the side that I opened, and Dhani and Julian got out of George's side.

John came over to them immediately. I took Nancy's hand and led her over to Heather and Linda, who were sitting together in the shade, slightly away from the others. Linda was extremely pregnant, and was due any day. I knew that she was exhausted and would be unlikely to do much activity today. I sat with her and the two girls played together.

**George's POV**

Charlotte took Jack and Nancy over to the shade to sit with Linda and Heather, and I took the boys. Dhani was clutching at his red cape which we had asked him not to put on until a little later in the day, and Julian was holding a camera with no film in it.

John came right over and I froze up. Lo and I had talked about keeping the children - especially Dhani and Jules - away from John and Yoko due to their growing drug habit of harder stuff than marijuana, but in practise it was hard to keep them away from John because he was all over them. I knew that he probably missed having a child - and, though I wasn't supposed to know it, I also knew that Yoko had miscarried two children since she and John had first become a couple.

"Hello, boys!" John exclaimed.

Julian, who was bolder than Dhani, replied, "hello, _Uncle_ John." He shot me a look. Julian was a very precocious six-year-old.

Dhani, however, hid behind my legs and clutched more tightly at the red material of his cape.

John put a hand on Julian's shoulder before he came to stand slightly in front of me, kneeling down so he could be face-to-face with Dhani, who was peering around the side of me.

"Dhani?" John said quietly. Dhani was silent. "Are you going to talk to me?" Dhani disliked John and Yoko _immensely_. Lo and I had tried to counsel him through it slightly, but I think that Yoko scared Dhani and he associated John with the scary woman - I didn't blame him, honestly. Together, the two of them were very odd. John noticed the cape and hummed for a second before he asked, "is Super Dhan going to make an appearance today?"

At that, Dhani nodded, albeit hesitantly.

John smiled, "what's he going to rescue?"

I looked away from Dhani and John for a split second to see Paul with Julian in his arms, talking animatedly. That was good because it meant that I could focus on Dhani for a few minutes. Yoko was nowhere to be seen. Ringo, Maureen and the two boys; Zak and Jason, were on their way over to Linda, Heather, Nancy, Jack and Lo.

I looked back down at Dhani, who was emerging from behind my legs slowly, as if he was starting to warm up to John. I didn't want this, and neither did Lo. We wanted to keep the children safe, especially the two that _were_ John's biologically.

"Where's Yoko?" I asked. Dhani cowered behind me once more.

John sighed and stood up, looking directly into my eyes.

"She's petitioning the photographer." John deadpanned.

"For what?" I asked in surprise.

John shrugged, turned and walked away.

* * * * *

**Charlotte's POV**

It was the perfect day. We had a giant picnic, and then in the afternoon, we - the wives and children - watched the band pose for photos. Yoko refused to come out of the large house for most of the day, stating that the sun would ruin her porcelain skin, which, in reality, was nowhere near as pale as she would have liked to think. Linda, Maureen and I liked her absence, and the children did, too.

Very quickly, I gave up trying to stop Dhani from wearing his cape, and insisted instead that he stayed away from the photographer in case the bright red of the cape distracted him.

As the three of us; Linda, Maureen and I, watched the band pose for the photoshoot, we were in agreement; there was something oddly morose and sombre about the occasion. We all knew that the union of _The Beatles_ were coming to an end, though none of us said it aloud to each other, but there seemed to be something so final about the band's poses.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	74. Chapter Seventy-Three

**_August 28th 1969_ **

**Paul's POV**

Never in my life had I heard somebody scream as loud as Linda did in the middle of the night. I woke up and sat bolt upright, immediately turning to her.

"What's wrong?" I asked her hurriedly, "is it the baby?" My heart was beating so quickly in my chest that I thought it would explode.

Linda nodded, "it's coming - Paul, get Charlotte here _now_." I nodded and got out of the bed, the sleep completely washed from my mind as I practically ran to the phone downstairs and dialled the familiar number of George and Charlotte's house.

It rung for several minutes, but somebody picked it up eventually. "This better be important." A sleepy George Harrison grumbled into his receiver.

"Linda's in labour!" I exclaimed, "she needs Charlotte over here _now_!"

I could almost imagine George's eyes widening and a smile spreading across his face as he called up the stairs to Charlotte, "Linda's having the baby!" I wondered if Charlotte was half as excited as I was. George spoke to me, "she's just getting dressed and putting Jack back down - the phone woke 'im up."  
"Tell her to hurry!" I hung up and then ran back upstairs.

Heather was standing in the doorway to mine and Linda's room, the teddy bear that I had bought for her the first time that I had ever met her was tucked under her arm. I picked her up and kissed her cheek, "don't worry about mummy, sweetheart," I said to her softly, carrying her away from Linda, who was hissing in pain as another contraction rolled over her, "she's going to be fine. Soon, you're going to have a new brother or sister, y'know like we talked about?"  
She nodded, though she looked very frightened. "Does it hurt?" She asked me innocently.

I bit my lip, not wanting to lie to my Heather, but also wanting to protect her from the truth. I nodded, "it does," she looked alarmed and I wondered if I had said the best thing, so I quickly added, "but as soon as the baby's out, it all goes away."

"Does she have to be alone?"

I shook my head, "your Auntie Lo's going to come and be with 'er," I explained, "you like Auntie Lo, don't you?"  
Heather nodded. I took her back into her room, which was just down the hallway from mine and Linda's. I tucked her into bed and then sat beside her, knowing that Linda would want me to make sure that Heather was okay before I went to see if she was.

Heather looked frightened as we heard Linda's shrieking from the other room, slightly muffled. I assumed that she was burying her head in the pillow or something similar, not wanting to scare Heather.

But it wasn't working.

I took her into my arms and kissed the top of her head, folding my body around hers so that she felt safe, warm and protected. "Do you want me to tell you a story?" I asked. She loved a story, and I usually told her one before bed every night.

But Heather shook her head.

"Can you sing me a song?"  
"A song?" I echoed in surprise. She had never asked me for one before. Heather nodded and I asked, "which one?"  
"One for me." Heather yawned as she burrowed her head against my shoulder.

I had not written Heather a song and hadn't intended to... however, I knew that she needed the comfort at that moment in time, so I began to sing the first words that came to my mind when I thought of my darling daughter, who had come into my life only a few years previously.

_I'm gonna fly to the moon_

_Check in outta space_

_Find me a suitable plot_

_Build myself a place_

_There I will stay_

_Forever and a day_

_Until the cares of my life blow away_

_And I will dance to a runcible tune_

_With the love of my heart,_

_Heather_

I didn't have any other words, so I just sang the one chorus over and over again, ignoring the pained cries of my wife, which tore my heart apart, until Heather was asleep in my arms and I could lay her down again.

**Charlotte's POV**

I pulled up outside of Paul's house, ignoring the fans who were screaming at me from beyond the gates. They all knew that something exciting was happening, and many of them were asking about Linda and had correctly guessed that the baby was coming - but I didn't tell them that. I rushed up the front steps and used the spare key that Paul had given to me all those years ago when I had first broken up with George to let myself in.

I heard Linda crying from the foyer of the house and so I rushed upstairs and into the bedroom, not even stopping to take off my shoes.

She was lying on the bed with tears on her face and her hands clutching at her baby bump. I pitied her, remembering the three times that I had pushed a baby into the world. We both knew what was to come for her, and we both knew that it would be horrible.

Childbirth always was.

I sat on the edge of the bed beside her and brushed the hair from her eyes, "Linda," I said as calmingly as I could, "we need to get you to a hospital."

She nodded, "Avenue..." she closed her eyes and winced at the pain, swallowing another scream. I wondered where Paul was, and then very quickly surmised that he must be with Heather.

I nodded and swept the blankets back from her legs, helping her to sit up and pull on a pair of trousers - she had been sleeping in only her underwear - and a shirt. I pushed her slippers to her and she shoved her feet into them, and then I helped her to stand up, grabbing the hospital bag as I led her down the stairs. I got her into George's car, which I had borrowed, and then I said, "where's Paul?"  
"With Heather." I nodded and dashed back inside.

Sure enough, Paul was in Heather's room, softly singing to her despite the fact that she was asleep. He looked up as soon as I rushed into the bedroom.

"Take her to George, and then come to the Avenue Clinic." Paul nodded and picked Heather up. I didn't see him do anything else because I was already back on my way out to the car and Linda.

* * * * *

Many hours passed, and it was almost four in the afternoon before George brought the children to the Avenue Clinic, including Heather, who was wearing what appeared to be a new dress; I smiled at the thought of George taking her out to buy something pretty to meet her new baby brother or sister in.

Dhani and Julian sat outside in the hall whilst George brought Nancy, Jack and Heather into Linda's hospital room.

She was still not fully dilated, according to the midwife. I hadn't dared to ask how much longer it would be until she was ready to push, but I knew that Linda was just about ready to tear her hair out; she had been having contractions for about thirteen or fourteen hours by that point.

"Mummy, is the baby here yet?" Heather asked, going straight over to her mother; the only constant in her life.

Linda, who was very clearly in pain, shook her head. "No, baby," she replied to Heather, gritting her teeth at yet another contraction, obviously finding it very difficult to not cry out but refraining because of the children - and George - in the room. "Soon, I promise." Heather gave her a kiss and then wiped her own mouth with the back of her hand. Linda smiled at her daughter, knowing that she was very sweaty.

"George," I said, giving Jack a kiss before I handed him back, "take the children for ice cream or -"  
"It's like a bloody circus out there," George gestured to the window in Linda's room, "press're havin' a bloody field day."

Paul sighed, speaking for the first time in almost thirty minutes, "I didn't want it to be like this."  
"It's always like this." I reminded him, "Beatlemania and all that -"

"Not for much longer." George said under his breath.

Nancy looked alarmed, her eyes widening. Heather looked dumbstruck, having been just that little bit old enough to understand what was being said.

"No more Beatles!?" Heather exclaimed before she burst into tears, which very quickly caught onto Nancy. The noise startled Jack who then began to scream.

I sighed, "George, take the children." I said again in a very pointed tone, making it very clear that he had no choice in the matter, " _and_ Paul." I gestured to my brother, who was white as a sheet as he peered out of the window and at the pavement below. We could hear the clamouring of the journalists and photographers below, and that was without the sobbing of the fans who knew that they were well and truly about to lose the last Beatle as he took the final step and became a family man.

George nodded and went over to Paul, taking him by the sleeve and leading him out, something which Paul would never have allowed usually.

"I want to be here -"  
"Trust me," I said, "you don't."

Linda couldn't hold back a scream at the next contraction, and Heather cried louder. I could tell that Linda was conflicted; she wanted to hold Heather and tell her that everything was fine, but she was in so much pain that it was unthinkable to do anything _but_ scream.

I shut the door behind them all, feeling my heart trying to pull me towards my crying babies. I knew that George could handle them... I _had_ to let George handle them. He could soothe them, he could -

"Get the midwife." Linda ordered. I jumped, turning to her.

"What?"

"Get the midwife!" She barked. I didn't take offence at her rudeness - I knew what she was going to and I had acted the same in the past. "I'm ready to push!"

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	75. Chapter Seventy-Four

"Linda, you were amazing." I smiled at her as she clutched the baby, a girl, who was swaddled in blankets and fast asleep already.

Linda tilted her head towards me, glancing away from her new baby only long enough to smile at me.

"Do you want me to get everyone in?"  
"Just Paul and Heather." She replied, this time not tearing her eyes away from the sleeping baby. I nodded and left the room, closing the door behind me.

In the hallway, it was like another planet. After Linda had given birth, her room had become tranquil; even the baby had been silent, coming out seemingly content rather than screaming as all of my children had. But in the hallway, it was chaos. People were rushing around, family members and visitors were talking to each other loudly and in the distance I could hear a few medical machines bleeping loudly.

Paul, George, Heather and the rest of the children weren't sitting in the hallway as I had expected. I looked around and couldn't see them anywhere. I went over to the nurses' station and smiled sweetly, "I'm looking for my husband?" I asked.

One nurse smiled, "that's a change - usually it's the husband looking for his wife here!"

I chuckled at her joke and then asked, "George Harrison? I was just in with Mrs McCartney -"

"Ah yes," a second nurse said as she looked up from some paperwork. She stood up and came around the side of the desk so we could talk more quietly. The first nurse picked up the second's paperwork and continued to read through it. "As I'm sure you can imagine, they were getting some looks - and babies, in fact. We've had no less than three babies named George today, and then we had another called Paulette, and the mother cried because she wasn't a boy!"

I giggled. Now that _was_ funny.

"We moved them to the break room, I hope you don't mind, Mrs Harrison." The nurse turned and waved to me over her shoulder, "I'll take you to them."

She led me down the corridors and slowly the number of people in them dwindled down until they were empty.

"This is quite a way from the ward," I observed, "were they being harassed that badly?"

Beatlemania had never really died out, so I almost knew the answer to my question before she gave it to me.

"Yes," she paused, "and somebody called the press. We _were_ trying to keep it quite quiet for Mrs McCartney and the new baby." She stopped outside of a door, "they're in here." She then smiled, turned and left.

When I entered, it was serene. Dhani was reading a music magazine, _Led Zeppelin_ were on the front page. He wasn't an amazing reader yet because he was so young, but he was definitely coming along. Julian was fiddling around with a camera that I recognised as Linda's, snapping photos of everybody. Nancy was in George's arms, and they were talking softly to each other. Paul was holding Jack, feeding him milk from a bottle which I had prepared the previous day, and Heather was colouring, sitting beside Paul.

"They're ready for you both now," I said. Everybody looked up. Heather looked very excited, and Paul paled. He looked like he was going to throw up. I knew that he was very nervous about being a father, but I was sure that the excitement by far outweighed the nerve.

Heather exclaimed excitedly, "is it a girl? Please say sister, Auntie Lo!"  
I smiled as I came round to stand beside her, taking her into my arms. "You have a sister, Heather."

She and Nancy cheered loudly. George chuckled at his daughter, and the two boys groaned.

"We wanted another boy to play with!" Julian complained.

"Well she won't be old enough to play with for a few years yet, boys," I told them, "but girls are just as fun, right?" Dhani buried his head in the magazine head and I turned to Paul. "Congratulations on your new daughter, Paul." I took Jack from him and said, "we'll be down in about forty minutes - you should both have some time with the baby before we burst in."

Paul chuckled, "baby Mary should know that she's going to have a lot of family around her -"  
"Mary?" Heather asked.

"After my mum," Paul replied, going over to the door of the break room, "Mary Anna McCartney." Paul left the room and I turned to George, who was beaming broadly.

"Linda and the baby okay, then?" He asked.

I nodded, "they're both fine. Mary's such a content baby."

George smiled and looked at Nancy, who was quite happily playing with his long chocolate brown locks. "Do you think Paul will be okay?"  
I nodded again, taking a seat beside my husband, "I think he'll take to it like a fish to water. I saw him with Heather this morning, and that was beautiful."  
"Oh?" George asked, waiting for me to elaborate.

"Yeah," I said, "so when I got Linda out to the car, I went back in to tell Paul to bring Heather to you. Well, he was in Heather's room, softly singing to her even though she was asleep."  
"Like daddy sings to me?" Nancy asked from George's lap.

I nodded a third time, "yes, honey," I replied, "because Paul is Heather's daddy, too."  
"But I thought he didn't know Heather or Linda before?"

I sighed. There was _no way_ I was having the conversation with my four-year-old before I needed to.

"We'll talk about it later." I told her softly, watching lovingly as she went back to playing with George's hair. 

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	76. Chapter Seventy-Five

**_1st September 1969_ **

My babies were going to be starting school in a matter of days, and I had to do the hardest thing that I had ever done. I sat Julian down in my lap and cuddled him close to my chest, running my fingers through his hair.

"Mummy?" He asked me, "what's wrong?"  
How did one tell their child that they weren't truly their child? That they'd been adopted without the consent of either parent but that it had probably worked out for the best?

I wasn't sure, but that was what I had to do.

George was watching from the armchair opposite, a concerned expression on his face as he watched me hold Julian.

I had no idea how he would react to this news.

"You're going to school in a few days," I said, trying to start the conversation off on a positive note since I knew that it would very quickly take a nosedive south, "are you excited?"  
Julian thought for a few seconds and then hummed in reply, "I'd like to make some new friends."

I smiled, "well you'll definitely do that," I told him, "everyone's going to want to be your friend."  
"Because of dad?" Julian looked at George, who bit his lip.

"Well yes," George said slowly, obviously wondering how best to continue. We both knew that we were on very dangerous ground, and that what we said next might break the relationship that we both had with our oldest child... _forever_. "But it's more that -"

"Julian, do you think that you look different to Nancy?"

"Well yes," Julian answered, "because she's a girl."

I should have expected that answer to my question. "She is," I agreed, "but she also has a different hair colour to you, doesn't she? And her face is a different shape."  
"I hadn't noticed her face." My son replied.

"Dhani looks a little different to you, doesn't he?" George asked, trying a slightly different approach to an impossible task.

"Dhani looks like you, dad." Julian answered.

"He looks more like you than he does me, son," George replied, "and there's a reason for that." He sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he joined his hands in front of him, "y'see, Jules, there are things called genes and DNA." I sighed. There was _no way_ that he was going to successfully explain this to a six-year-old using words like 'genes' and 'DNA'. Heck, even _I_ barely understood that kind of terminology, and I was nineteen years on Julian and had completed school. "And genes control what you look like... you get your genes from your parents, half-and-half, see."

"So I look half like mum," he looked at me, "and half like you?" Julian paused, "I wish that I'd gotten mum's nose, it's -"  
"You got half from your parents." I confirmed, "but not from us."  
"But -"  
"Julian, we love you as much as any parents love their children, but you weren't always ours..." I bit my lip, tears coming to my eyes. This was the crucial part. "Jules, when you were a tiny baby, you lived with a lady called Cynthia - she's your real mother -"  
"Y-you're not...?" Julian began to cry loudly. I shushed him gently, trying to dull the pain that he was undoubtedly feeling and would be feeling for the next few days, probably longer.

"Not biologically, no..." I trailed off, "that means that you don't have _my_ genes -"  
"But I have dad's, right?" Julian looked desperately at George, silently wishing that something that he knew was real.

George hung his head, and Julian had his answer.

"Who's my dad?" He asked quietly.

I sighed. "John."

"As in _Uncle John_?" Julian asked for clarification.

I sighed again and nodded. "Cynthia and John were married, and they had you... and then, when I became John's girlfriend, he missed you a lot, so he brought you to live with us... except, when John and me broke up and we weren't together anymore, I kept you -"

"Why?"  
"Why what?" I asked.

"Why did you keep me? I'm not your baby."

"B-because I loved you, Jules." I cried softly, hating to do so in front of him because I always tried to stay strong and stoic in front of my children so I could be their strength.

"D-did Cynthia want me?"

"I don't know, Julian." I answered quietly.

"Did she love me?"  
George said, "she never tried to see you after you came to live with Lo and John, so we don't know, Jules."

Julian cried. He didn't say anything else for several minutes. Neither George nor I broke the silence.

After a few minutes, Julian asked, "so Dhani and Nancy and Jack aren't my family? You're not?"

"Family isn't who you're born to, Jules," George said softly as he came to sit beside me on the settee and took Julian partly into his arms so that he could wipe the tears away, "family is who loves you... and Dhani is your half-brother. That means that you have the same dad."  
"So Dhani's d-dad is Uncle John, too?"

I nodded, "but please don't tell him yet, Julian... we don't think that he is old enough to know, yet."

Would he tell Dhani when he was in a temper or would he protect his little brother? George and I could only hope.

"Why didn't Uncle John -" Julian cut himself off, " _John_ ," he corrected, probably still thinking of George as his father, "not tell me?"  
"He's come to accept it in time." I answered, "Julian, you've had a happy and settled life here with George and me, and John hasn't become involved or tried to interfere with that because he knows that you're best off with that -"  
"And we adopted you, son," George interrupted, "which means that legally, we're your parents."  
"I-is that o-okay, Julian?" I asked nervously, knowing that he truly had no decision in whether or not we were his parents but wanting his approval anyway.

Julian was silent for several long seconds which seemed to stretch into hours.

Or it felt like hours, anyway.

But eventually, he nodded. "C-can I talk t-to John a-about it?"  
George and I exchanged glances and then George said, "maybe wait until you're a bit older, Julian. It's a touchy subject for him."  
Julian nodded slowly. George and I cuddled him, lavishing kisses on his cheeks, happy that we had told him and that he had had such a positive response.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	77. Chapter Seventy-Six

**_3rd September 1969_ **

I tied Dhani's tie and he pouted, crossing his arms against his chest but not saying anything. I looked to George, who was busy straightening out Nancy's cardigan, finishing that and then quickly moving onto doing Julian's tie.

"Do we have to wear the tie?" Julian asked, looking at his own and then at Dhani's. "It's _hot_." He gestured to the open window of our kitchen.

I nodded, "you have to." I paused, "Nancy has to wear her cardigan -"

"But she's got a different dress." Julian replied. "Dad, I don't want to go -"

"Don't start, Julian," George said quietly, "because it's been a struggle to get Dhani to get ready this morning, and if he hears you making a fuss then he will, too."

Julian sighed and nodded, going over to where Jack was sitting in his baby chair.

George and I had decided that he would drive the children to school every morning, but on the first day, we took them them together. I held Jack, as usual, since George hadn't found a large enough car for all of us yet, and the three children sat in the back.

Nancy was excited, and Julian seemed to be as well - but Dhani was silent, which was no different to usual, though he was chewing his nails down to the quick.

I watched him in the mirror, wondering if George had noticed.

When we arrived, there were lots of parents - mostly mothers - and children of all ages milling about. George pulled the car over and we two got out, going to open the doors to the back seat and waiting for Nancy, Dhani and Julian to climb out.

Nancy skipped along ahead, turning after a few seconds to beckon us along. Julian followed her. George looked at Dhani, who was standing stock still.

"Come on, Dhan," George said quietly, just loud enough for him and me and Dhani to hear, "it won't be as bad as you think."

"You'll have loads of friends, Dhan," I assured him, shushing Jack as he began to whine, getting hungry already despite the fact that I had fed him not three hours ago when he had first woken up.

"Dhani!" Nancy called from about thirty metres away, "come on!"  
She ran back to us, grabbed Dhani's hand and then pulled him along behind her back to where Julian was standing. Affectionately, George looked at me and smiled. I cocked my head at him and he chuckled. George put one of his hands on the small of my back and said, "come on, luv," and then the two of us walked after our children, hurrying to keep up with the excited Nancy, who was leading the way.

We took Nancy to her classroom first, since she couldn't wait to get in and meet everybody. The teacher, a young woman who looked like she wasn't young out of university, was standing in front of the open door and smiling widely, greeting each of her new students and their parents as they hurried in. George, Dhani, Nancy, Julian and I joined the queue and waited our turn, reaching the front after about ten minutes.

"Hello," the teacher said brightly to Nancy, "I'm Miss York. And you must be...?"

"Nancy!" Nancy exclaimed as she dashed past Miss York and into the classroom. Amused, Miss York watched her for a few seconds before she turned to face George and me.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

"Y-your..." she was staring at George. He was blushing. He obviously hadn't expected to be recognised at the school - assuming that the parents and teachers would be too old to know who he was.

He scratched the back of his neck with the hand which he had put on my back, "Mr Harrison." George replied, "and this is my wife," he gestured to me.

"G-George Harrison..." Miss York was blushing a bright red. I did the maths; she was so young that it was likely she had been no more than fourteen or fifteen when _The Beatles_ had first made it big. It was very obvious that she was a fan.

"A fan, luv?" George teased kindly.

She nodded, "M-Mr Harrison, i-it's an honour to m-meet you... and to have y-your daughter i-in my class..."

George looked very awkward. I knew that he would rather not be recognised _everywhere_ he went, though I didn't need to be married to him to know it. It was very obvious.

"Just don't treat Nancy any differently," George said kindly, "she's every bit as good as those other kids."  
Miss York nodded, "o-of course not, M-Mr Harrison, I -"

I looked at my watch, being very careful to support all of Jack's weight whilst doing so, "Georgie, we'd better go or the boys won't get in on time."  
George nodded at me and then turned back to Nancy's teacher, "lovely to meet you, ta!" And then he walked off and he followed, turning to wave at the awestruck girl as she watched us go, her jaw still on the floor.

I giggled, "you did that on purpose."

My husband shrugged, "sometime it _is_ funny seeing their reaction."

"I think she likes your music, dad." Julian said from beside me.

"Jules," I said before George could say anything in reply to him, "this is your class." I leant down and kissed his forehead, "I love you, have a good day. I'll be here at 3 to pick you up, okay?" Julian nodded.

"Bye, mum! Bye, dad! Bye, Dhan!" And then he walked into the classroom past his teacher. There was no line for this one. The teacher looked to be around fifty, with greying hair and half-moon spectacles on.

"You must be Mr Hart." I said politely, smiling at him. "I'm Mrs Harrison, Julian's mother."  
He hummed in reply and turned to George, instead addressing him. "Has your son brought lunch with him?"  
George shook his head, his long shaggy hair swishing at the movement. "He's having a school lunch today."

"Hm." Mr Hart eyed George's hair disapprovingly, looking down his nose at George, which made my blood boil.

George was one of four of the greatest musicians of our modern time - how _dare_ he look at George like he was anything less than that just because of how long his hair was!

"Right," I said, turning away from Mr Hart and making a point of it, grabbing George's arm and pulling him away from the man, too, "you next, Dhan."

Dhani looked like he was about to cry. He looked around nervously and then directly at George. George and I exchanged glances and I gave a small, barely noticeable nod. But George saw it. He picked Dhani up and set him on his hip, turning his head so he could talk to him.

"You nervous, son?"  
Dhani, of course, nodded.

"Don't be, Dhan," I said for the umpteenth time, "you're going to have lots of friends, and you already know how to read!" I pointed out, "you'll be miles ahead of everyone else and they'll all love you for it."

I was well aware that that was _not_ how school worked, but my firstborn didn't need to know that.

"Hey," George said, trying to cheer Dhani up, who looked like he would combust any minute, "why don't you pick dinner tonight?"  
He perked up a little at that.

"Anything?" Dhan asked. George nodded, "curry? Like the one you made on my birthday?"  
That was Dhani's favourite. He was like George in every way - they even looked almost completely alike, which was odd given that he wasn't biologically a Harrison - but I never questioned it or thought on it for too long.

"Curry it is, then." George had turned vegetarian in 1965, and I had too, to support him, though I sometimes struggled with it - especially when I was pregnant.

We took Dhani to his classroom. His teacher was standing with a wide smile on her face, just like Nancy's Miss York had been, though Dhani's teacher looked about ten or fifteen years older.

"This is Dhani," I said, gesturing to my son, "spelt D-H-A-N-I." I was very particular about how Dhan's name was spelt. The teacher nodded and George took a deep breath, giving Dhani a peck on the cheek and then putting him down. I ruffled Dhani's hair. "Love you, Dhan." I said to him as the teacher gestured for him to go into the classroom. We were the only parents around as it was almost time for the school bell to ring.

I looked at George and he nodded, silently telling me to do what I felt that I had to. I spoke quietly to the teacher, "Dhani is... special -"  
"Every parent thinks their child is special, Mrs...?"

"Harrison." I said, introducing myself, "but Dhani requires something more than the other children. Sometimes he needs to be alone -"  
"We do not give special measures for children." The teacher said in a disdainful tone, "your son will either fit in or he will find school very difficult, and that will be the case for his whole life."

I _hated_ Dhani's teacher, and for a split second, I contemplated whether I should leave him with her or not. Would he be _okay_ without me there?

" _Look_ ," I said in a pointed tone, frustration very obvious within it, "Dhani is different to the other children. He _needs_ you to be kind to him, and not to shout. He needs you to be patient and understanding. I trust you can be these things for him, and if you cannot, then -"  
"Then we'll pull him out of school." George finished for me, taking a step closer to the teacher to be intimidating, something which he was very far from.

However, his movement seemed to do the trick.

The teacher nodded and swallowed, "I will do what I can... but I will _not_ single him out and treat him above the rest of the children."  
"Just be aware." I answered in a low tone, looking down at Jack, who was fidgeting very badly and very obviously quite hungry. I knew that I needed to feed him soon or he would start crying and not stop for hours.

"Come on, luv," George put his hand on the small of my back again and led me away from the nasty teacher.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" I asked George as we got back into the car.

George sighed, placing both of his hands on the steering wheel and thinking for a few seconds before he replied, "I don't know."  
"I hope he is."  
"So do I." My husband agreed. "I worry about him more than Nancy and Jules."

I nodded, "Do you think it was the right decision?"  
George nodded, audibly swallowing. "I think it'll be good for him in the long run. I think that he will enjoy learning... but he might not enjoy the teacher."  
I chuckled at George's joke, "if she even says _anything_ unkind to him, then I'll -"

"We'll take it up with the school board."

George knew just as well as I did that the school board would do nothing about an unkind teacher, but he was trying to comfort me and I appreciated that.

We sat in silence for another minute before I said, "I need to feed Jack before he starts crying..." 

George started the car and drove the three of us home. The car was silent, almost eerily so. I missed my three babies already.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	78. Chapter Seventy-Seven

"Hm," George hummed as he sat on the bed behind me, his hands immediately going to my shoulder blades and rubbing at them intensely, working the knots out from behind of them, "how long has it been since we'd had time alone?"  
It was a rhetorical question, but I had the answer. "Since before Dhani was born." I told him honestly, remembering how George had saved me from being a single parent once he and the band had returned from America in 1964 and my relationship with John had ended.

"And now it's just you and me again, Lo," he paused, continuing to massage my shoulders, "Nance, Dhani and Jules are at school and Jack's asleep downstairs."

We took a few seconds to savour the silence of the house, my heart feeling oddly heavy at the thought of it. It was only eleven o'clock in the morning but there was nothing to do; the cleaner had finished with the house and had already left, and we had no other staff. _The Beatles_ had finished work on their latest album 'Abbey Road', so George didn't even need to go into the studio. It was just George and me.

A wicked thought came to my mind.

"Y'know what we haven't done in a while?" I asked with a smirk on my face as I turned my head over my shoulder and looked at him.

"Gone at it like wild, love struck teenagers?" George asked, only half-jokingly.

I giggled, nodding. " _Yes_ ," I agreed, "but we also haven't tried anything _new_..."

George smirked, knowing where I was going with this. "What were you thinking?" He asked.

"Well," I turned around completely so that we were facing one another. I looped my arms around his neck and moved my lips closer to his, though being very careful to not connect them yet. I wanted to build the suspense, "Jack's down for at least another hour or so -"  
Unable to take the pressure, George pressed his lips against mine, and we kissed for several seconds very softly. It was perfect, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. It amazed me how George could still make me feel like a teenager in love.

"I just want to make love to you, Lo," George practically begged, going onto his knees and slowly moving me backwards so that I was lying on the bed, " _please_ let me show you how much I love you."  
"You've never needed permission, Georgie..." I combed my fingers through his hair and he groaned. I tugged on the strands and he whimpered. He was like my own personal puppet. With every tug and twist of my fingers, a different sound escaped from his gorgeous lips, and I swallowed them all up with my mouth, entwining my tongue with his, letting him take control.

George nudged my one of my legs with one of his own and I bent both of them at the knee, very quickly bringing one of them up and hooking it around his back, pulling him closer to me. George began to grind against my core and I moaned loudly, crying out as the material of my shift dress rode up and my panties became very visible, a damp spot proving how wonderful George was making me feel in that moment. He sat back only long enough to appreciate my body before his hands left my sides and began to undo his belt and the buttons of his denim jeans.

It seems like we had all the time in the world and yet we were rushing to get our clothes off - or rather to be as close to one another as we possibly could be. George pushed his trousers and underwear halfway down his legs and then he turned to my body, bending his head and pressing a harsh kiss to my clit over the top of my panties. I squirmed and breathed out in ecstasy, wishing that he would give me some more pleasure and stop fore playing.

I needed him.

" _Georgie_..." I moaned out, my hands going to hold onto the metal foot board of our bed as my husband pulled my knickers away from my body at an agonisingly slow pace.

"Patience, Lo," he warned in a low tone which sent a red hot shot of lust to my core.

" _Georgie_..." I keeled, trying to catch his eye with my own... but George was too busy looking at my leaking cunt. "Please don't make me wait, George," I begged shamelessly, "it's been far too long -"  
"You're just so beautiful," he said quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. He didn't tear his eyes away from my leaking core.

"Are you talking about my cunt or my face?" I asked him daringly, knowing that he hated it when I used such appalling language.

His eyes shot up to mine and I smirked, knowing that I had him exactly where I wanted him.

"Both." He ducked his head and began to kiss the inside of my thighs. I bent my legs once more and dug my toes into the blanket below us, squirming uncontrollably as I began to feel his hot breath against the place where I needed it most. "It fascinates me," he said, "how you've brought three children into the world with this cunt and yet it still looks as beautiful as it did when we were teenagers."  
I blushed at his words, my mind going blank and my embarrassment fading as soon as his rush tongue flattened against my already-throbbing clitoris.

I screamed, and George lapped up and down me, devouring me like I was the best thing that he had ever tasted. I saw stars behind my eyes and lost myself, shattering entirely. My insides convulsed and I fucked my hips against his face uncontrollably.

"Already, luv?" George asked rhetorically, sitting back on his knees to watch my pussy clench around nothing, "I expected better from you by now -"  
"I-I can't, George..." I cooed, "a-as soon as you s-start talking l-like that -"  
"Well you've had your fun," George took his cock in his hand and stroked it a few times, watching it for several seconds before he turned his attention back to me. I had been watching his cock, rubbing my legs together and aching for him once more. I could feel the beginning of a second orgasm - how long had it been since I had lusted after him this badly? During my last trimester with Jack, I had been hard to coax into having sex, and George had suffered because of it - which I was very sorry for, now. I had missed so much of him, and I hated the thought of that.

"Please, Georgie," I begged, "give me it."  
"Give you what?" He spat in the palm of his hand and used it to slick up his cock, readying it for me. His thumb slipped over the head of his cock, catching the precum and spreading it around his length. I watched, transfixed entirely. "Give you _what_ , Lo?" George asked again, bringing me back down to Earth.

"Your cock." I replied seductively. "George, please fill me up with your cock. _Stuff_ _me_."  
George leant forward and pressed the blunt head against my entrance. My pussy clenched at the thought of having him inside of me, and George must have sensed the movement against his length. He pushed in, immediately grunting in delight and satisfaction as my inner walls clutched at him.

"So good, Lo," he moaned out, "so tight," he kept pushing in, "not going to, _ugh_!" He bottomed out. "Not going to last long -"  
" _Fuck me_..." I whispered into his ear, leaning up just long enough to speak.

And he did just that. George set a brutal pace from the very beginning, pounding into me and clutching at my hips, pulling me ever closer to his body. Being like this with him felt divine. The room stunk of sweat and sex, the only sound was the slapping of our skin as it collided.

I moaned, feeling the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to uncoil.

"I'm going to -"  
" _Hold it_!" George ordered as he continued to fuck into me, one of his hands going to my clitoris. He palmed it harshly and I cried, feeling my eyes brimming with tears because of how good I was feeling.

"George, I -"  
" _Me first_." He continued to chase his high, very quickly finding it. I somehow managed to hold my second orgasm at bay until he came, though I lost my control as soon as I felt him explode inside of me, his hot seed painting my inner walls and filling my womb.

He collapsed on top of me, though he was very careful to support his own weight. I could feel his cock softening inside of me, my cunt fluttering at the thought.

He chuckled and I knew that he had felt it, too. "You're insatiable." George pulled out of me and laid on my right. I joined my left hand with his right, running my thumb along the callouses on the inside of his hand. "You were amazing, Lo."

I smiled. "So were you."

"God, you drive me mad." George turned his head to look at me. He smiled. "I love you."  
"Oh, Georgie," I replied, "I love you, too." I kissed his lips softly and he kissed me back. We parted after a few seconds and just stared into each other's eyes.

"I want us to spend forever together."

"We will." I promised. "You're it for me, George." I paused, "you and the children are the only things that I need to keep me happy -"  
"Then you'll be happy forever."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	79. Chapter Seventy-Eight

I had left Jack at home with George and walked to their school, my heart light with the excitement of seeing my children again and hearing about how their days had been. But Dhani had been silent since I had picked him up. He hadn't even spoken to Nancy, who excitedly chattered away at him, explaining each and every detail of her day over and over again until I whispered to her that Dhani knew that she had built a sandcastle in the sandbox at playtime, and that he probably didn't want to hear about it again.

And Dhani wouldn't even talk to _George_ , which was a big blow for him.

"Dhan!" I called up the stairs, "dinner!" He was usually the first down - I didn't even have to _call_ him, usually. He would smell the food wafting up the stairs and hurtle down the stairs. "Dhani?!"  
There was no reply.

I sighed and went up the stairs, knowing that his day had gone badly from his silence and desperate to know what exactly had gone on.

"Dhan...?" I knocked on the door, not waiting for a reply before I slowly pushed it open. I saw him lying on his bed, flying one of his spaceships in the air. I sighed again and went to sit on the edge of his bed. "Dhani? What happened, baby?"

"N-nothing..." he hiccuped, and I noticed that his face was a very bright red, his eyes splotchy and sore-looking. My heart ached because my son had obviously been crying.

"Dhan, come on," I said, gathering him up into my arms and encasing him in them, "tell me what happened. Did you not make any friends?" Dhani was silent. "Was the teacher nice to you? Dhani, I need you to tell me."

Dhani's chest was rising up and down very quickly, and I could tell that he was about to cry. I held him more tightly, giving him the support that he needed.

"T-they chased m-me..." he sobbed.

"Who did?" I asked, my nostrils flaring as I imagined my poor Dhani so alone.

"M-my class..." he buried his head in my chest and cried.I carded my fingers through his hair, long like George's, and tried to ground him and calm him down. "T-they were s-singing _Yellow S-Submarine_."

I groaned. _Of course_ they were bullying Dhani because of his ties to _The Beatles_ \- biologically, he was John's son, though he didn't know it yet - and on paperwork, he was George's.

"Mummy," Dhani cried, "I h-hate them!" He wiped his nose against my dress and I sighed, wishing that he hadn't because it was my favourite.

"Oh, Dhan..." I continued to stroke his hair, the time slipping away from us. Before I knew it, George had come in, and he had two plates in his hand.

"Hey," he said softly as he came to sit opposite me on the bed. Dhani pulled away from me and took the plate which George was holding out to him, he dug in hungrily. I refused my plate from George's hand and instead he put it on the bedside table beside him. "What's up, son?" George asked, "you've been quiet all day."  
"They chased him, Georgie," I said quietly, continuing to softly brush Dhan's hair with my fingers as I spoke to my husband, who looked dismayed at what I was telling him. "They chased him and sang _Yellow Submarine_."

George's thick eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Dhani between us; our sweet little boy who we both loved so much and so differently to Nancy and Julian, even Jack, because we knew that he needed special care.

"What did you tell 'em, Dhan?" George asked.

Dhani looked away from his food - curry, as promised - which he had practically inhaled.

"That my daddy was George Harrison." Dhani answered, "Freddie Rice was saying that his dad was a firefighter, and I said that you were better because you were George Harrison and in _The Beatles_."

George asked, "did Freddie Rice start the singing?"

Dhani nodded, "him and Matthew Collins."

I looked at George and we held each other's gazes for a few seconds before George said, "we'll talk to your teacher tomorrow, Dhan. I'm not having you being bullied because of me."

"I have to go _back_?" Dhani asked in disbelief and fear, the fork in his hand clattering onto the plate as he dropped it in surprise.

"You have to go back, Dhan," I confirmed, "I'm sorry, baby, if I thought it would be best then I would keep you here with me and never let you go again... but you need to be in school, making friends and -"  
"None of them want to be my friend!" Dhani wailed. "Mummy, they all hate me."

"Wasn't there _anybody_ who was nice to you?"

"There's a girl called Mandy -"

I shot a look at George, who looked like he was bursting to tease Dhani about the girl that he had just mentioned.

George resisted the urge and instead said, "Mandy?" Dhani nodded, "she sounds nice."

"Why don't you invite her round for dinner?" I suggested with a smile, trying to give Dhani something to be excited about for the next day at school and for the coming week. "Any night of the week -"

"She said she doesn't like _The Beatles_." Dhani said, looking at George, "I can't be her friend if she doesn't like daddy's band -"  
"Everybody has different tastes in music." George said, "Mandy doesn't _have_ to like the band to be your friend -"

"But if she comes here and isn't nice to you -"

"Then I won't be offended, Dhan," George promised as he took Dhani's now-empty plate from him and put it on the floor. "It's good that Mandy knows what she likes at her age."

"Did she join in when the others chased you and sang _Yellow Submarine_?"  
Dhani shook his head, "no, she told Mrs Foster."

Ah, so that was the name of Dhani's miserable teacher, then.

"And did Mrs Foster stop it?"

Dhani looked at George, "she told me to go and sit on the bench and everybody to leave me alone... but Mandy sat with me."

I smiled, grateful that Dhani seemed to have one friend at least.

"Tomorrow, Dhan, we'll ask Mandy's mummy if she can come for dinner, eh?" George suggested.

Dhani nodded. "Okay, dad..."

* * * * *

Later that night, after we had put all of the children to bed, George and I put our pyjamas on and then climbed into bed together. He put his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. I sighed.

"Something wrong, Lo?" George asked quietly.

"It hurts that they can be so mean to him, George," I replied, "he's just a baby." I felt my eyes brimming with tears.

George nodded in agreement, "I know, Lo, I know." He agreed, "but at least he's got one friend - Mandy, wasn't it?"  
I hummed in reply, "you _will_ ask if she can come to dinner, won't you?"  
"Of course. I'll ask Dhani to show me her tomorrow."

I smiled, nestling my nose into the side of his neck. George breathed out contentedly, pecking the top of my head before replacing his chin in its previous place, "then come home and tell me what her mother says."  
"I will."  
"I'll have breakfast waiting for you."  
I could practically _feel_ how excited he was about breakfast. George _loved_ to eat, and could eat as much or as little as he wanted and never gain any weight. It was quite frustrating, but adorable in the best way.

"Love you, Georgie." I murmured.

"And I love you, Lo." George answered softly.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	80. Chapter Seventy-Nine

**_20th September 1969_ **

Two weeks passed, and it was soon the middle of September. Dhani and Mandy had become very close; Nancy had many friends, and Julian had found that he was particularly good at football and so was friends with all of the boys who shared his interest.

And George and I had embraced the new path of parenthood, and were spending a lot more time together and also with baby Jack.

George also refused to go to Apple Corps, Savile Row. I didn’t blame him. The tension in the air between the four Beatles was so thick that it could be cut with a knife, and it only seemed to be getting worse. I wondered how much longer they would go on pretending that they were still a band; that _The Beatles_ still had a future.

With these thoughts running rampant through my mind, I waited for Nancy to come out of her classroom, smiling at Miss York and giving her a small wave in greeting, which she returned. Miss York was very nice, and had, on more than one occasion, referred to George and the rest of _The Beatles_ as the best band in the world.

George blushed everytime, and it was adorable.

“Hey, Nance!” I exclaimed as soon as I saw her dash out the door. She threw herself into my outstretched arms and I smiled - that was the response that I wanted when I picked my children up from schools. “Let’s go get Jules and Dhan.” I led her to Julian’s classroom, and he was waiting outside of it already. He walked over to us, “hey, mum.” He smiled, “I have a girlfriend, now.”  
I chuckled, “you’re a little young, Julian!”

“We’re totally in love.” He answered in a serious tone, “her name is -"  
"Mummy!" Dhani's little arms went around my middle, slightly taller than he was, and I wondered where he had come from. He wasn't usually let out of his classroom unless I was there waiting for him. "Mummy, Mandy wants me to come to her house for dinner!"  
I smiled, "oh Dhani!" I exclaimed excitedly, "that's wonderful news -" I cut myself off as a middle aged woman appeared in front of me. She was quite thin and pale, with bright red lips which didn't match her complexion.

"You must be Dhani's mother?" Julian and Nancy were staring at her. I nudged Julian and he nudged Nancy, the two of them quickly glancing down at the floor in shame.

I smiled, "yes, hello." I held out my hand, "Charlotte Harrison."

"I'm Amanda's mother, Lorraine Templeton."

"Lovely to meet you, Mrs Templeton." 

"Lorraine is fine," Lorraine answered, "anyway, it seems that our two are quite fond of each other. I'd like to have Dhani to our house tonight for dinner, since you and your husband were kind enough to have Amanda a few nights ago."

"She was no trouble," I answered politely, "and thank you for the offer. I'm sure that Dhani would love to go to your house for dinner." I looked at him, "yes?"

He nodded, "yes!"

Mandy, a small blonde girl who very rarely spoke unless she was around Dhani, was standing a few feet behind her mother. Dhani dashed around Lorraine Templeton's legs and straight over to Mandy. The two of them were usually quite quiet, but together they could be very loud. I loved that she brought that side out in him, and he in her.

* * * * *

When we got home, minus Dhani, George was sitting on the chaise longue in the hallway, staring into space.

 _That's odd_ , I thought, so I went over to him. I knelt down and put a hand on his knee, startling him out of his mind. His brown eyes met my crystal blue ones and my heart leapt into my throat. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"What's wrong, George?" I asked quietly, looking around us and seeing that Julian and Nancy had disappeared, leaving Jack, who was quite content at that moment, in his pram.

"Ringo was on the phone." George said quietly, looking at my hand on his knee and entwining one of his with it, still keeping it over the top of his kneecap. I waited for him to continue. "H-he said it's over..."

I swallowed, a foul acrid taste building in my mouth. "I-it's over...?" I echoed in disbelief and sadness.

George nodded, "no more Beatles."

We sat in silence for what felt like a few hours but was only a minute or so. We let it sink in.

No more Beatles.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	81. Chapter Eighty

George and I left it until the next morning to tell the children about the ending of the band. I cooked them breakfast and George got them all up and dressed, handing me Jack once I had plated and served everybody else's breakfasts so I could breastfeed him. I did this at the table, looking to George only briefly to see if he wanted to tell them at that moment or wait for some time.

But he nodded.

I swallowed.

"We have some news -"

"Are you having another baby?" Julian asked, his eyes widening slightly. His expression was almost comical, but George and I didn't feel laughing.

"No, Jules." I replied softly.

"We wanted you three to be the first to know," George sipped at his coffee, pausing briefly before he said, "the band is over. Officially."  
Nancy began to cry, Julian's jaw dropped and Dhani's fork was frozen halfway to his mouth.

They looked like they'd been delivered the worst news in the world.

I tried to cheer them up, "come on, you three," I said, "it's not all bad... you've still got the records -"  
"And the memories." George supplied.

I nodded in agreement. "And you'll still see Uncle Paul, and probably Uncle Ringo, too -"

"Not as much because we won't be going into the studio, but I'm sure that they'll come for birthdays and things."

The three of them were silent, though Nancy continued to cry. I cocked my head towards her and looked at George, who got up from his chair and went to get Nancy, picking her up and consoling her, patting her back.

"No, daddy!" She exclaimed, "it can't be over!"  
"Mum," Dhani whimpered, the first words that he had said to anybody all morning, "it's not true... is it?" He looked afraid to ask.

I sighed and nodded.

"It is..." I bowed my head and looked at Jack for several seconds. Jack, who wouldn't be able to remember his dad being in _The Beatles_. Jack, who would never understand the cultural impact that _The Beatles_ had on the world.

Dhani began to cry, too. George went over to him and picked him up, holding Nancy on one hip and supporting Dhani's weight on his other. They were both crying and I could tell that George was struggling to hold them both and also to not cry himself.

I wondered what he would do now, because we had never spoken about a future _outside_ of the band.

"What happens next?" Nancy asked through her tears, looking directly at George.

He looked lost. I got up and went over to her, wiping away her tears with one hand whilst I used the other to hold Jack.

"Who knows, baby?" I asked, "nobody ever knows what comes next... maybe daddy will make more music, or maybe he'll become a bus driver like your grandad Harold." Harold was George's dad, and still drove the buses in and around Liverpool. I was joking about George driving the buses though; I knew that he had always hated it when his dad did it, and would never do it himself, but I meant what I said; who knew what George and we as a family would do next?

**Paul's POV**

I was steaming angry, smoke practically bursting from my ears as I paced the floors in the living room, the soft rug between my toes doing nothing to calm my temper or stop me from walking back and forth. "He couldn't even show up!" I ranted, waving my arms around as Linda sat on the settee with Mary in her arms and Heather at her side, the two of them watching me wearily.

I had been pacing for almost thirty-five minutes this morning, and I had done so for almost two hours last night without sitting down.

"The last ever meeting - the one where we make it all official - and he couldn't even _show_." I turned to Linda, "d'you think he did it on _purpose_?"  
George had always put the band first.

Linda shook her head, "George wouldn't do that to you, John or Ringo."

"And he signed with _Klein_ ," I spat the word out, "they _all_ did."

"Yes, dear," Linda agreed, "you're the only one with sense - they'll regret it. You'll be better off for it, and they'll lose _millions_. Paul, you tried to warn them."

Mary finished suckling at Linda's breast. Linda pulled her shirt back down to cover herself and then began to burp our daughter.

"I know," I agreed, sitting down on the other side of Heather, "but _Lo_ 's going to suffer when George does... and the children -"

"That's not your problem." Linda said, winding Mary, "that's George's. He can provide for his family as much as you can yours."  
"Yes, but Charlotte _is_ my family." I rested my chin in my hand, "Lind, maybe I should have tried harder to convince him -"  
"Don't blame yourself. You did all you could." Linda sounded impatient, so I was quiet, not wanting to annoy her. Her temper was inescapable once it began.

"Daddy?" I looked at Heather, who had her hand on my leg to get my attention, "what'll the world do without _The Beatles_?"

"I don't know, Heather," I told her honestly, "we're going to have to find out."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	82. Chapter Eighty-One

**_9th October 1975_ **

**Charlotte's POV**

"Answer the phone, Nance!" I called from the kitchen, my arms covered in flour up to the elbow. Nancy sighed and put her pencil down. She got down from the breakfast bar and went to get the phone, which was in the hallway.

"Hello?" She asked the person on the other end. "No, she's busy right now... who is this?... oh, hi, Uncle John... I'm nine, now... I can get her for you, don't go anywhere." I heard Nancy coming back to the kitchen, her slippered footsteps echoing through the rooms as she walked through them.

"Uncle John, huh?" I asked when I heard her approach me.

She hummed in reply, "he said it's important."

"Alright, thanks, Nance." I wondered what John would want - he hardly ever called, and when he did it was usually to ask George if he would play on a new track. I washed my hands quickly and then put a tea towel over the bowl with the dough in it, leaving my bread dough to rise.

"John?" I said by way of a greeting as soon as I picked up the phone.

"Hey, Lo." John sounded different; more happy, somehow. "Nancy's grown up, hasn't she? The last time I spoke to her, she was -"  
"Seven." I answered, "that was two years ago. You haven't rung since then, what do you want?"  
"Oh come on, Lo," John replied, sounding disappointed, "don't be like that... how are my boys?"  
"They're not _your_ boys, and you know it." I answered bitterly, "don't ever think that they are, or refer to them as that." I paused, "you've never given them anything -"  
"I gave them life -"  
"No!" I snapped, feeling my head begin to ache because of how stressful dealing with John was, " _I_ gave them life. You've given them nothing."

John sighed, "whatever, Lo, I didn't call to fight -"  
"Then what _did_ you call for!? Because it seems like you only ring me and George when you want something, and I'm sick of it."  
"Yoko's had a baby." He answered suddenly, but in a monotone voice. I was silent.

I knew that John and Yoko had been trying for a baby for about six years, and that they had lost several in that time. I knew how happy John would be now that he had the chance to be a dad for real, but a small part of me wondered how long it would last.

"Lo?" John asked after a minute or so, "did you hear what I said? Yoko's had a baby - I've got a little boy, Lo. We've called him Sean."

"T-that's..." I coughed slightly, clearing my throat and gathering my thoughts. "That's great, John. That's really amazing, I'm happy for you." _Are you going to abandon that son, too?_

I bit my tongue, physically restraining myself from adding my snide remark onto the end of my sentence.

"That's good, Lo, I'm really glad that you're happy about it." John sounded like he felt awkward. I wondered why.

"Yeah," I deadpanned, "congratulations to you both, I'm sure you're -"  
"Ah, come on, Charlotte," John said, a slight Scouse twang to his words. For a split second, I could almost imagine that we were the two teenage best friends back in Liverpool; him in Woolton and me in Allerton. "Don't be like that."

"I'm not," I answered, "I'm happy for you... I'm just wondering how long it will be before you abandon this baby as well -"  
John sighed, "I didn't call to fight with you, Charlotte, I called because I wanted to ask if Dhani and Julian would come over for a bit."  
" _What_?" I asked incredulously, practically having to pick myself up from the floor. "You want my two sons - an eleven year old and a twelve year old - to embark on a ten hour flight to _New York_?"

" _Our_ sons," John corrected, "and I want them to meet their brother -"  
"Sean is no more their brother than Yoko's daughter is their sister!" I hissed.

John sighed again. "A'right, Lo, a'right... don't send them over, then. Like you said, they're _your_ sons, so -" He sounded defeated. I imagined him hanging his head in resignation.

"Mine and George's." I answered him, malice in my tone. " _Not yours_." I hung up the phone and took a deep breath before I took my hand off of the receiver and then turned, practically jumping out of my skin when I saw Nancy standing there.

"Who's Sean?" She asked.

"Um -"  
"What did Uncle John want?"  
"He -"  
"Is he coming to visit soon?"

It had been five years since any of the children had last seen John in person, but they all still missed him dearly. It hurt me that he didn't care enough to call them every once in a while; particularly Julian and Dhani. He should at least make the effort to call them every few weeks, or -

"Did Auntie Yoko like her birthday card?"  
I sighed, going over to Nancy and kneeling down so I could talk to her. "Nancy, she isn't your auntie - you know that. I didn't ask about the birthday card. Sean is Uncle John's new baby, and he was ringing to tell us about him and to ask if Julian and Dhani would go over and meet the new baby."

Dhani, in a complete 360 from his usual behaviour, had told Nancy that he and Julian weren't really George's sons about two years ago. I had been furious with him for it at the time, but with hindsight, I supposed that she needed to know.

We weren't going to tell Jack yet, since he was still only five and a little young to understand the concept of adoption and biological children.

"Is he coming over here if Dhani and Jules aren't going to him?"  
"No, dear." I paused, straightening out the cardigan that she was wearing, "and... they're not _not_ going to New York to meet Sean, it's that I have to talk to your dad about it first - and I don't really want to send them on such a long trip by themselves -"  
"So are we going to New York?" Nancy asked, her excitement very quickly growing until she was clenching her fists in anticipation.

"I have to talk to daddy." I repeated sternly, "but if he's okay with it, then _maybe_ -"  
Nancy squealed and ran off upstairs, quite possibly to pack her bag for a trip that may or may not have been happening.

I sighed and stood up, smoothing the wrinkles out of my dress. I hoped that she didn't get her hopes up, because I knew that George didn't particularly enjoy long flights, and he would be even less eager to take Julian and Dhani over to see Yoko and John. Whilst he had previously worked with John on musical projects, he _loathed_ Yoko, and I knew that the thought of spending a few days in her company would be one that would fill him with dread.

I went to go and check on my bread dough, my head aching from the conversation that I had just had with John, and the thought of the conversation that I knew was to come with George, Dhani and Julian.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	83. Chapter Eighty-Two

When George got home a few hours later with our three boys in tow, I was only too glad to go over to him and bury my head in his chest.

Instantly, George's arms went around me. I laid my ear over his heart and listened to it for a few seconds, quietly crying. "Luv," George said after a minute or so, "you're goin' to stain my shirt - what's wrong?"

I reluctantly pulled away from the warmth of his body. George wiped my tears away from my face and then used two fingers to tilt my head up until we were looking into each other's eyes - his a deep and warm chocolate brown and mine a crystal clear blue.

"John called." I said quietly, looking over my shoulder to see Julian standing in the corner of the hallway, watching us with a curious expression on his face.

George followed my line of vision and locked eyes with Julian, "give us some time, would you, Jules?"  
He sighed, nodded and walked off. I smiled at his attitude. Julian was twelve, nearly twelve and a half, and already had some of the makings of a teenager - including the attitude. I had a faint idea as to what was coming, but no real clue. Oddly, I was looking forward to it.

When we were alone, George turned back to me. "What did he want?"  
"He said that Yoko's had a baby - a son, Sean. He..." I bit my lip, my eyes welling up once more, "he wanted Dhani and Jules to fly over to New York to meet the baby -"  
" _Alone_?" George asked in disbelief.

I nodded, "that's what was heavily implied... and then when I said no, he started being unkind."  
"What did he say?" My husband asked, "did he hurt you?"  
I shook my head, "nothing that I didn't walk right into."

"I wish I had been here," George said, gritting his teeth and balling his fists at his sides, "I would have -"

"I think..." I said, biting my lip and wondering how much I was going to regret my decision, "that perhaps they _should_ go to New York to meet the new baby -"  
"But they're so young -"  
"We'd go with them, of course." I interrupted. "All of us... like a holiday." I sighed, "Georgie, I think that John has a point - he called them _our_ sons, as in mine and his. And, they're yours as well, but he _fathered_ them. If he wants them to meet their half-brother, then they should be able to have that opportunity, even if it never leads anywhere."  
George was dead silent.

His facial expressions were imperceptible. I had no inkling as to what he was thinking, for once.

I took a deep breath, "I think that this feud between me and John has gone on too long, and that there have been repercussions because of it. Maybe Dhan and Jules should have been allowed to think of him as a father figure before now -"

"When he was doing heroin?" George asked incredulously but in a quiet tone in case any of the boys were listening.

"George, you've seen him since. You've _worked_ with him, even. You said to me yourself that he seems fit and clean and healthy, now. Maybe this is a way of opening the gates - extending an olive branch - and forging a relationship between the three of them that should have existed years ago."

George looked away from my eyes and stared at the floor. My heart skipped a beat, wondering if he was angry with me for going back on what I had insisted on for the last six or seven years. I had always said that I wanted Dhani and Jules kept away from John and Yoko - especially Yoko - for their own protection, and now I was trying to go back on that and saying that I wanted them to forge a relationship that should have been there years ago.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked me in a quiet tone, still not meeting my gaze. "You _really_ want to force them to John and Yoko?"

"To John, yes." I answered softly, "they're coming to the age now where it isn't our choice anymore. Especially Julian. This baby is the perfect opportunity to fix it all."

After a few seconds of deep thinking, George said, "okay, Lo," he let out a breath of resignation, "I trust you and your judgement. I can't say that I agree, o'course - our boys are worth twenty-five John Lennons and more - but you're their mother and he is..." George's face soured. I couldn't help but smile at his expression. "He _contributed_ , I s'pose, though he hasn't done much more -"

"I'll go and tell the children to start packing -" I turned, going to walk away, but George pulled me back by grabbing at my wrist sharply and pulling me back to him. I twirled into his arms and couldn't resist smiling at his action.

"We're not going for a few weeks." George said pointedly. I opened my mouth to ask why, but he beat me to it, "I'm not having you regret this decision. We'll be spending Christmas with them - I'll ring the airport and book the tickets, but we're waiting until Christmas so you can back out if you need to."  
He had a point, I knew that he did, but I refused to acknowledge that to his face. I had made my decision and I would stand by it.

"But -"

" _Charlotte_ ," George said in a disapproving tone. I cringed - he _never_ called me by my full name. "I don't agree with you on this but I am respecting your wishes - you can at least respect mine. I _want_ to give you time to back out of this."  
 _He's right_. I tried to not listen to my brain.

I sighed and crossed my arms against my chest. "Fine." And then I huffed and walked off.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	84. Chapter Eighty-Three

**_23rd December 1975_ **

"And then, Jack," I said, "Father Christmas comes down the chimney with your presents and leaves them under the Christmas tree."

"How does he know that I've been good all year?" My six-year-old asked as he looked out of the window and across the sky, which was full of clouds. For December, it was a good sky - the weather was fine, it wasn't raining or snowing. It was quite bright, and since it was only the six of us on the plane as passengers, the pilot didn't have too much to worry about.

We were on our way to New York for the Christmas holidays, and to take Dhani and Julian to meet their new little half-brother, Sean.

"Because he watches over you all year." George said from across the plane, laying on a suede settee which he had commandeered as soon as we had boarded very early that morning.

"He sees everything that you do, Jack." Julian added, looking up from the game of monopoly which he was playing on the floor with Dhani and Nancy.

"Everything?" Jack asked in a slightly worried tone, turning to look at me for clarification. He sounded more like a Scouser than my other three children did; he spent a lot of time with George - more time than even Nancy had done as a younger child - so I assumed that he had picked it up from him, because George's accent was still very thick despite being away from Liverpool for over ten years.

I nodded, "everything."

Jack swallowed audibly and went a bright red. "Mummy, I don't think that Father Christmas will bring me any presents this year." He looked at his hands, wringing them together in his lap.

"Why's that, dear?" I asked him.

Jack was silent.

"If you don't tell me then I can't tell Father Christmas that you're sorry." I said, trying to push him into telling me what he had done because I couldn't think of anything that he had done in the last year that was bad enough for him to think that Father Christmas wouldn't bring him any presents.

He remained silent for several seconds. I looked over at George, who was looking very interested as he watched us both from a few feet away.

When Jack still hadn't spoken after about three minutes, George sat up, "come 'ere, son." He gestured to the now-empty space beside him. Jack got out of the seat beside me and hurried over to George, settling against his father's side and smiling as George held him.

Because Jack was the youngest, we all babied him. He loved to be cuddled and cooed at because of it.

"Dad?" George hummed in reply, "do Uncle John and Yoko have a chimney?"  
George thought for a second and then replied, "I don't know, Jack. Why?"  
"Because Father Christmas can't bring presents for Julian and Dhani and Nancy if not." He answered in a tone of voice that replied that his answer should have been obvious.

"I'm sure he'll find another way in, darling." I shot the three older children a look. They were all narrowing their eyes at Jack.

None of them believed in Father Christmas anymore, but they played along for Jack's sake - though I saw the scepticism on all of their faces whenever Jack or George and me talked about the big man in the red coat.

I continued to listen to George telling Jack about Father Christmas, finding his voice very calming. I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

"Mrs Harrison?" I began to gain consciousness, but I kept my eyes firmly shut. My mouth was dry and my head ached, my back sore because of the angle at which I had been sleeping at. I _hated_ flying. "Mrs Harrison?" I opened my eyes slowly and saw an air hostess kneeling down beside my chair. "Mrs Harrison," she said with a big smile on her bright red lips, "we're just about ready to land. Would you mind redoing your seat belt?"

I nodded, too tired to reply verbally. She thanked me and then hurried off to take her own seat for the descent.

I looked across the plane at George, who had an arm around two sleeping children; Jack on his right and Nancy on his left, the two of them had their heads rested on his chest.

"New York, eh?" I said quietly, not wanting to disturb them. Dhani and Julian were strapped into their seats now, talking to each other with their heads ducked very close together. I loved how close my two oldest boys were, though I sometimes wished that they would include Nancy in some of their games and secret conversations; I felt that she felt like an only child due to her being the only girl and also a few years older than Jack.

George nodded, humming, "I remember the first time we touched down 'ere. February 1964."

"I was in London." I remembered, "pregnant with Dhani -"  
"I remember." George paused, "who'd have thought we'd be back?"

"Do you ever feel old sometimes?"

" _Old_?" He echoed with a chuckle. "Lo, you're _thirty-two_."

I nodded, "I know, Georgie, but it feels like just last week that I was twenty, and we moved to London. It's like yesterday that I had Dhani and Nancy - even Jack - I don't know how I got to be twenty-five, let alone _thirty-two_."

George chuckled again, "Lo, you're _thirty-two_. When you're Paul's age, or even John's, _then_ you can complain -"  
"Paul's one year older than me."  
"So let's have this conversation in six months, when you'll both be a year older."

I thought about that for a few seconds, furrowing my eyebrows as I thought about who had one in that situation.

After a minute, I sighed. "You're a headache-and-a-half, George Harrison."  
George laughed so loud that he woke Jack up. Jack looked like he was going to cry, but George caught him quick enough to stop him. "Hey, son," George said, "we're in _New York_!"  
Jack squealed in delight. Nancy woke up and abruptly sat upright. I laughed at her. She looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Aw," I said, opening my arms, "it's alright, Nance. Your brother was just a bit loud." She got up and walked away from George, coming to settle in the seat beside mine. I made sure that she was strapped in properly and then I put my arms around my daughter.

The pilot's voice echoed throughout the plane as he spoke through the intercom, "good morning, Harrison family. We're beginning our descent into John F. Kennedy airport, New York. It's been a pleasure flying you today and I want to thank you for the Christmas bonus."  
Ah yes, George had paid the pilot's fee twice over, calling it a 'Christmas present' from the Harrison family.

My husband was very generous - in fact, the media sometimes called him the generous Beatle - there were worse names, I supposed. Paul was the pretty one who ended the band, and John was the one who had married a lunatic... and Ringo... Ringo was known as the one who got lucky.

George had gotten off pretty lightly with his name.

"New York here we come!" Nancy squealed as she clenched her fists in excitement as we felt the pilot begin to bring the plane down, readying for landing at JFK airport.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	85. Chapter Eighty-Four

Getting tired children and a tired husband as well as all of our suitcases through customs whilst simultaneously avoiding the media and paparazzi was a feat which I thought that I deserved a medal for.

When we finally got to the VIP exit of the airport, I was puffing and out of breath and it was drizzling. The children gasped the fresh air in like it was their first time outside ever, and George was practically hanging off of my shoulder.

I groaned, shrugging him off of me. "George!" I hissed, feeling jet lagged already, "take one of the -"

We both jumped at the sound of familiar laughter coming from our right. John was striding towards us with his arms opened wide and a smile on his face. He looked like he had been the last time we had all been in Liverpool as teenagers; happy. Carefree. Young.

Nancy ran at him, as she did all of _The Beatles_. He caught her and picked her up as if she were four and not nine. As if she weighed nothing. He kissed her cheek and put her on his hip as he closed the gap between us.

"You must be Jack," he teased her.

Nancy giggled, "Nancy!"

He tickled her belly and she squealed in delight, wriggling so hard that John put her down so he didn't drop her. He knelt down and smiled at Jack. "Little Jack Harrison," he smiled, "you look like your dad - and Dhani, actually." He squeezed one of Jack's cheeks, giving him a kind smile that I remembered fondly as the one that had belonged on the face of the John Lennon that I had first met in 1961. And then he turned to his two boys. Julian was staring at him boldly, almost confrontationally - as if he was ready for John to say something that would cause a fight - and Dhani was biting his fingernails and staring at the ground. "And I'd know the two of you anywhere, of course." John smiled, "My boys!" He hugged them both at the same time, and as soon as he let them go, Dhani jumped back and hurried to stand between George and I. George put a hand on his shoulder and knelt down, talking to Dhani very quietly in a soothing tone, calming him down, which was something that he did incredibly well.

John just watched, his head cocked at George and Dhani.

"John," I said, stepping forward so I could draw his attention away from my son and husband, because I knew that in that moment, Dhani needed the privacy. John's eyes met mine and he smiled, refusing my outstretched hand and instead taking me into his arms and squeezing me until I wheezed. Nancy giggled at my wide eyes over his shoulder, and when John finally let me go, I took several seconds to recover. "It's nice to see you again."

"You look well, Lo," John replied with a smile, "though can't say the same for dear old Georgie, 'ere." Pointedly, he looked at George.

George, who had heard his name, looked away from Dhani for a split second to glower jokingly at his old friend.

"Lovely family you've got." John said, gesturing to the four children, each in turn.

I wiped some raindrops from my eyes; the rain seemed to be getting heavier.

I nodded, "we're very proud of it."  
John leaned a little closer to me, "you've done well for yourself, Lo." I didn't know what to say in reply to that, so I just smiled and hummed in reply, looking behind me at George, who was just regaining his full height and dusting himself down.

George came over and held out his hand to John, just as I had.

John, as he had with me, refused it, and instead hugged George, which was very out of character for him - John had always prided himself on being the big tough Northern lad who didn't hug or even really touch other men unless they were family.

"Dhan needs to be approached _slowly_ ," George said quietly, glancing at Dhani as he walked past us and over to Julian, Nancy and Jack, who were all talking together and throwing their gazes over to John every few seconds. "You'll see."  
John took a whole minute to think over that before he said, "right," he turned to the children, who were now all watching him, "come on, you lot - Yoko's got the kettle on for hot chocolate!"

The four of them cheered. John walked around both George and I and grabbed three of the six suitcases. He wheeled them ahead and the children followed like rats on the pied piper. George and I split the remaining three suitcases between us; he took two and I took the final one, and then we followed John to his limousine.

* * * * *

"Is all this really yours, Uncle John?" Jack asked excitedly as he continued to watch New York race by out of the window. John, who was holding Jack in his lap, chuckled.

"The whole world is yours if you want it badly enough, Jack my boy!"  
He tickled Jack on either side of his rib cage and Jack squirmed on his lap, giggling and trying to get away. I smiled at the sight of them but couldn't help but wish that John was putting as much effort in with Dhani as he was with the other three children.

He had given Julian a football, Nancy a bone hairbrush and Jack a new teddy bear as soon as we were all in the limousine, but had given Dhani nothing, promising instead that his present was back in his and Yoko's apartment at the Dakota building.

I knew undoubtedly that it had hurt Dhani that his siblings had been given a present and he had not yet, but I let George comfort him because Dhani got the most consolation from him.

We arrived at the Dakota, and John told the driver to unload our suitcases and to take them into the foyer so they could be sent up to the apartment. The man nodded and John led us inside, still holding Jack in his arms.

We all got into the overly large lift and John pressed a code in to take us to his and Yoko's apartment. As soon as the doors opened, Yoko was standing in front of them, and the sound of a screaming baby could be heard a few rooms over.

Yoko's eyes rested on me first. She didn't smile at me, and I didn't smile at her.

"Welcome." She said in a taught tone.

I pushed Nancy forward gently, urging her to say hello and be a role model to her three siblings. She smiled at Yoko, "hello, Aunt." She bowed her head, "I'm -"  
Yoko crossed her arms against her small chest, looking over Nancy's head and at her husband. "John, the baby is crying." I felt an anger inside of me growing very quickly - how _dare_ she ignore my daughter!

John sighed and handed Jack to George, quickly pushing his way out of the lift and dashing off to see to the crying baby.

 _That's very weird_ , I thought to myself, purposely avoiding looking at Yoko, _why didn't she see to him? Why did John have to do it? How long has baby Sean been crying?_

I had never liked Yoko, but the thought of any woman leaving a baby to cry was sickening to me, let alone if it was their own baby.

"The kettle is in the kitchen. Everything has its place. Find it and put it back where you got it from." She turned and walked off.

I turned to George, "what a lovely welcome."

Julian turned to look at me, "I don't think I'll be able to put up with her for the next week -"  
I put on a brave face, taking a deep breath. "Well suck it up, Jules, because we're here, and we're _all_ going to be nice and grateful to Yoko. Okay?"  
Julian groaned.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He sighed and nodded.

"Here he is, then," John said brightly as he came back into the room, holding a little baby in a onesie, "my little Sean."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	86. Chapter Eighty-Five

On our final day in New York, I was up early. I rolled over onto my side and saw that George was still snoring. I got out of bed, being careful not to wake George, and then I went into the en suite bathroom. I relieved myself and brushed my teeth, and hurried to put the dressing gown that John had leant me on. I left the guest room and went into the front room.

"Cup of tea?" John asked as soon as he saw me. He was sipping from his own mug, but was already off of the settee and halfway out of the room before I could reply. I followed him, and went to sit on the stool in the corner of the kitchen.

"Hi," I said quietly by way of a greeting to him, "I didn't think anybody else was up."  
"Neither did I," he filled the teapot and then put it on the stove. "I'm usually up this early anyway - genius strikes around now." He looked at the clock on the wall and smiled, "guess it's runnin' late this morning."  
I chuckled and watched him put the teabag into a cup, "or maybe it doesn't exist." Despite Yoko's presence, John and I had become quite close in the time that my family and I had been staying at the Dakota. It was almost like we were the two best friends back in Liverpool again.

"Cheeky!" He exclaimed, opening some of the cupboards and looking for something. He sighed after a few moments, "no biccies, I'm afraid."  
I gasped, putting a hand to my chest and pretending to be deeply offended by his lack of teatime treats. "You've failed in your one mission, John Lennon!"  
He shrugged and turned the hob off, "let's just go out."  
"For _biscuits_?" I echoed in surprise and disbelief.

John shook his head, "for brekkie. You haven't had breakfast at Tiffany's, yet."

I giggled, "that _really_ exists?" I asked, because since the film had come out, I had just assumed that it was a film and not a real shop.

John nodded, "they've got some lovely jewellery, too, y'know. You want to have a look?"  
I wanted to eagerly accept. I wanted to be able to buy all the necklaces and bracelets that I wanted, but I knew that George didn't like me spending money unnecessarily. He wasn't tight with how he spent his money, but he was careful. He had never had a lot of money as a child, and despite the fact that he had been rich for ten years or so, it still felt surreal for him... though he loved to spoil the children.

John and I hurried out of the Dakota building wearing coats over our pyjamas - he had assured me that nobody would give us a second look. He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards a yellow taxi which was idling at the curb. He opened the door and pushed me into the car, climbing in after me.

The two of us were laughing.

The crisp air of late December had bitten through our coats and pyjamas, but neither of us cared. We were used to the cold; we'd suffered it for hours at a time as teenagers when we had been back home.

"Tiffany's." John told the cab driver, who grunted in reply and pulled away the from the curb.

I turned to talk to John in the back of the taxi, "so what've you been up to these last few years, Lennon?"

He shrugged, "y'know."

"No." I answered, "I don't."  
He sighed, "I've been 'ere and there. I did a bit of art, an album or two - worked with George a bit - Yoko's been keeping me busy." I frowned at the mention of her name. "Ah, come on, Lo, don't be like that. She's my wife. You _have_ to accept her."  
"I don't _have_ to do anything, John." I told him, crossing my arms against my chest. "I tolerate her because she's your wife, and because we're staying in her house. I won't be sending her a birthday card."

John sighed and looked out of the window. The two of us didn't speak again until the cab driver stopped outside of a building with a large clock hanging on the front of it. I looked at the clock and tried to remember a time that I had ever been out at such an odd time in the morning.

He turned to me, "let's not fight. This might be the last time that we see each other -"  
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked quickly, uncrossing my arms and leaning forward in surprise. "John, are you okay?"  
"I'm fine," he assured me, "I'm just sayin'." He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out some bills, handing them to the cabbie and getting out before he could collect his change. The cab driver gave it to me and I took it, giving it to John as soon as I was out of the car. He sighed and took it. "I didn't _want_ the change back."  
I shrugged and John walked ahead, leading me into the shop.

 _Tiffany & Co_. looked as though it had only just opened for that day's business. John led the way to the restaurant part of the store and placed our orders before we'd even sat down. I wasn't asked what I wanted for breakfast.

We sat down at a table for two, and two teacups were brought over shortly after, two teapots, milk and sugar following. I thanked the girl who had brought it over, who looked no older than twenty, but she didn't meet my eyes. When she had hurried away, I looked back to John, who was stirring some sugar into his cup.

"Are they not supposed to look at you?" I asked him quietly, looking around the restaurant and noticing that we were the only ones there.

He hummed in reply, "you dine here to be left alone, not bothered by staff."  
I sighed but didn't reply, instead changing the conversation to something that Sean had done the previous day.

Very quickly, John's order was brought over to us. A croissant and four different pots of jam were placed in front of me as well as a green box - a Tiffany's box. My eyes widened when the waitress walked off, leaving it. I looked away from the box and at John, who was watching me with a small smile on his face.

"You...?" I gestured to the box with a bow of my head.

He nodded excitedly, "open it." He began to butter the slice of toast which had been put in front of him.

With a grin on my face, I wiped my hands on my pyjamas and then took the box in my two hands. I pried it open carefully, putting the lid down when I could and then using my free hand to pull back the tissue paper.

My jaw dropped.

Inside of the box, there was a gorgeous gold watch with a square clock face.

My eyes watered. I put the box on the table and then took the watch out of it, holding it up to the light.

"T-this...?" I looked past the watch and at John, who was watching me intently. "F-for m-me?"

John chuckled and nodded. "For my favourite Macca."

I laid the watch across my wrist and tried to do it up with my one hand, but couldn't. I held out my wrist to John, "would you mind?"  
He shook his head and wiped his own hands before helping me to do the clasp of the watch.

"Do you like it?" He asked me when he was finished doing it up.

I nodded, "John, it's gorgeous. I've never had anything Tiffany before."

"I didn't think you had," John paused, "I asked the girl to go and get it for you." He shot a look at the girl who had served us our tea. She still wouldn't look at us, but I could tell that there was a smile on her face.

"I love it." I told him honestly. "Now I can keep perfect time."  
"Is it hard to do everything with them all?" John asked, slurping from the Tiffany teacup as he peered at me over the top of it.

I snorted, "you have _no_ idea." I paused, "and it doesn't get any easier! Julian is twelve now, and he's still a nightmare. Nancy's quite well behaved, but I think that's because she's the only girl and sort of gets on with everything for herself."

John smiled at the thought of my Nancy, "I would have liked a daughter - I wouldn't change Sean, though."  
I nodded, "I think I'd like another daughter. Nancy's getting older now, but I wish I could give her a sister."  
"D'you think you and Geo will have another?"

"Another baby?" John nodded, taking a bite of his toast and chewing loudly. I shrugged, "we're not trying, but we're not _not_ trying... Oh God, this is awkward."

John laughed, the sound putting a smile on my face because it had been so long since I had heard such a belly laugh from him. The last time being when we were all in Rishikesh in '68, probably.

"I don't think Yoko wants anymore children." He hung his head, "she misses Kyoko."  
"Is she -"  
"With her father." John told me. "Yoko's supposed to have shared custody, but it was never honoured. That's why we're here in the States, y'know - because we're looking for her. If we leave, then I don't think my visa would be approved so we wouldn't be able to get back and then she'd be gone forever."  
My heart went out to him, and I suddenly felt like I understood John - and Yoko - better than I had before. Until a few moments before, I had thought that John and Yoko were staying in New York because they wanted to live up to their celebrity status and be the most talked about stars in the world... but no. They were in New York because they were looking for Yoko's daughter.

"You loved Kyoko." I remembered sadly, "I remember you took her to Scotland once -"  
"We wanted to take Dhani and Julian, too," John remembered bitterly, "but -"  
"I didn't let you." I sighed, "John, you know why."  
"I know why," John answered, "but I wish things had been different..."  
I took a deep breath, "so do I." I agreed, putting my hand over his wrist which caused him to look up from his plate to meet my gaze. "I wish you'd been able to be a father to Julian and Dhani... but I was doing the best thing for them."

John nodded slowly. "I know... and I really respect you for that, y'know?" He paused, "you always put them first - all of your kids - no matter what the cost is to you and George." I smiled at his words, feeling that everything I did was worth it because I loved my children, and it had finally been acknowledged. "And Lo, for what it's worth, I don't think I could have done the kind of job with them that George has done - you did the right thing when Dhani was born by not letting me take Julian back."

"By that time, he was my son." I paused, "I loved him as much as I loved Dhan, and I couldn't have given either of them away."  
John laced our hands together and I fought the urge to recoil - whereas it had once felt right, it now felt wrong. John and I were nothing more than friends.

"I'd like to have them more." I hadn't expected that. "They're my sons, and I want to start treating them like that. Twice a year, Lo, at Christmas and in the summer. A week each time - and I want to come and visit them a bit, too -"  
"If you're being serious about them, John, then you're welcome anytime." I paused, "but I won't have you loving them for a year and then dropping them. If you're going to do this, then it has to be permanent. You need to always be there for them, always on the other end of the phone or waiting at the airport."  
"I _promise_." He looked me right in the eyes and I knew that he wasn't lying.

I nodded, "okay... tell them, then." I paused, "but only if they're comfortable with it. I won't _ever_ force them to do anything when it comes with you - especially Dhani. He's different to Julian, Nancy and Jack."

He nodded, "I know he is... he doesn't like me as much as Julian does -"  
"He just needs time to adjust." I promised, "a week isn't really long enough, but if you write him letters and call him then he'll warm up to you."

John nodded again, this time looking like he was taking mental notes. He opened his mouth to reply, but the girl who had served us and gotten my watch from the shop floor interrupted before he could speak, "can I get you anything else?"  
I looked down at my plate. I hadn't even noticed that I had been eating my croissant.

I turned to her. She was looking at the floor again. "No, no thank you."

She nodded. 

"Add the bill and watch to my tab." John paused as he reached into the pocket of his coat, which was hanging on the back of his chair, and dug out the twenty or so dollars in bills that the cabbie had given him in change. He gave it to the girl and smiled at her. She didn't meet his eyes, either. "You've been great."

She nodded once in thanks and then hurried off.

I turned to John, "that was nice of you."  
He shrugged, "I'm trying to be a better person."  
"It suits you." I smiled, "it's not like the John Lennon that I've always known, though."  
"I'm trying to be a better person." He repeated. "I'm happier now that Sean is born - we've suffered so many losses, y'know, Lo, and it was getting us both down." I nodded in understanding, sympathetic to both him and Yoko despite my dislike of her.

"I'm glad you've got him now." I paused, "and you do seem happier. I'm really happy for you both, John." John began to fidget. "Is something wrong?" I asked, watching him with one raised eyebrow.

He bit his lip, "Yoko and I wanted to - well, _I_ wanted to ask you... you and George, actually, but you're here now, so -"  
"Come on, spit it out, John." I said in a slightly teasing tone of voice, "you're rambling like a pastor on Sunday morning."  
He chuckled, holding his fidgeting for a few seconds before he continued, "we want you and George to be his guardians."  
" _Guardians_?" I echoed in surprise.

He nodded, "if something happens to both Yoko and me, then he'd go to you two."

I was touched. "John, I -"  
"I know you've got a lot of kids already, Lo, but you've done so well with all of them - you should be proud of them, y'know - I want you to promise to take Sean and to treat him the same as you do Jules and Dhani."

I was tearing up. I was touched.

I nodded, biting my lip. "I'd be honoured, John Lennon." I told him honestly, "George and I both would. Of course we'll be Sean's guardians."  
John sighed in relief, his fidgeting stopping as soon as I agreed to be his son's guardian. "There's some paperwork to sign, but after that I can file it without you."  
"Let me know when it's done."

John rose from his chair, "shall we go back then, m'lady?" He put his coat on.

I giggled at his silly accent that he put on, "we shall." I donned my coat and then took his outstretched arm, the two of us skipping out of Tiffany's, ignoring the strange looks that we were getting from the other shoppers that had since entered the store.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	87. Chapter Eighty-Six

**_31st December 1975_ **

I sat next to Linda, who was nursing a glass of champagne and had been doing so for the last hour or so. I nudged her side. 

"You're not, _y'know_ , are you?" I asked, gesturing to her now flat champagne.

She looked at the glass and it took several seconds for her to cotton onto what I was saying. She laughed, "no! I'm just driving home tonight and I don't want to be too drunk with the kids in the car."  
"You're welcome to stay, Lin." I told her, "you, Paul and the kids. There's always room, and if there aren't enough beds then George and I will take the settee or something."

She chuckled, "yes, I can just imagine Paul taking the bed that you _and_ George sleep in." 

I giggled, "now you mention it, I suppose he wouldn't." I paused, "probably afraid he'd pick something up in there -"  
"And would he?" Linda asked, raising an eyebrow.

I gasped in mock-horror and then elbowed her once more, "come on, Lin, y'know me. I'm saintlike."

Ringo, who was sitting on the armchair across from me but was closest to Linda and I, snorted. "More like _un_ -saintlike, Lo."

I gasped again, "Ringo Starr! You've got the wrong idea about me -"  
"You _do_ have four kids." Linda reminded me.

"Well I only carried three of them." I paused, "besides, George is pushing for another one in the new year."

Ringo groaned, "d'you have to talk about that kind of stuff?" He asked, "I've just got out of one marriage and that was exhausting enough, I don't need to hear about yours as well -"  
I frowned, "ah come on, Rings," I teased, "you know you love it -"  
He got up and left the room, pushing past Mick Jagger, who was in the corner of the room talking to Pattie Boyd, a friend of mine from when I had been pregnant with Dhani. I actually preferred her sister, Jenny, but she lived in America with her husband, Mick Fleetwood of _Fleetwood Mac_.

"What's his problem?" Linda asked me quietly, referring to Ringo.

"Him and Maureen got a divorce, I think he regrets it."  
"But weren't they _both_ unfaithful?" Linda asked.

I nodded, humming in reply. "I think they love each other really - or he loves her, anyway. Besides, what's a marriage without a bit of playing around?"  
Linda's jaw dropped. "You don't mean...?"  
"Oh no," I said, "George would never..." I avoided the subject of Paul and Linda's marriage, because my brother had been known to cheat on girlfriends before; Dot Rhone and Jane Asher were the first two girlfriends that came to my mind. We sat in silence for a few moments. Linda gulped at her champagne and quickly finished the glass. "Do you want another baby, Lin?" She thought for a few seconds. "I'm not sure I do."

She hummed in reply, "I just want Paul to be happy," she answered, which was one of the things that I liked about her - she always put Paul, Heather, Mary and little Heather first and ahead of herself, "he's always wanted a big family."

I nodded. "I promised Georgie that I'd never say no to having more children with him."

Linda asked, "so should I assume that I'm going to be the godmother of baby Harrison number five?"  
I sighed, "y'know you and Paul are always godparents - you won't believe what John asked me, by the way."

"Oh!" Linda exclaimed, "I forgot to ask how New York was!"

"It was good," I told her honestly. "I would have liked to have Christmas in my own house, but it was nice to be with John again - it was like it was when we were kids, y'know?" She shook her head. Of course she didn't know. I shrugged, "well, it was like there wasn't any hostility."

She smiled, "I'm sure that was nice. I know Paul is still very angry with John -"  
"John spoke highly of him whenever he came into conversation." I assured her, "he was talking about asking the two of you and the children over, actually." I paused, "but anyway, Lin, you won't _believe_ what John asked me and George to do."  
"Do tell." She giggled, gesturing to one of the servers that George and I had hired for the night for another glass of champagne.

"He asked us to be Sean's _guardians_." I paused, "that means that if anything happens to them, then Sean would come to us."

Linda teased, "another Lennon baby under your roof, then?"  
"Well I hope nothing happens to the two of them, obviously." I told her, "but she doesn't even _like_ me, and they've asked George and me to take care of their son if they can't."

Linda let out a deep breath as the waiter handed her another glass of champagne, "that's heavy."  
I nodded, "it is... he took me for breakfast at Tiffany's - just us - and gave me this gorgeous watch," I showed it to her. She gasped, holding my wrist in one of her hands as she examined it, "and we talked a bit. Like friends. It was really nice... and then he asked me if we'd be Sean's guardians. Oh, Lin," I cried, "you should have seen him - he was so vulnerable. It was so un-John."

"It sounds like you had a breakthrough."

I sighed, "I think he just realised how lonely it is when he only has Yoko and Elton John."

"Lo!" George charged into the room, stone cold sober. He had given up drinking the last year or so, claiming that it made his songwriting better. I didn't push him on it. He shocked everybody with how loud he was, but nobody mentioned it. There was so many people in the room that I wondered how he had even been heard over the sound of their chattering. But he saw Linda and I on the love seat in the bay window. He rushed over and came to stand in front of me. "Our song is playing outside," he told me, "will you dance with me?"  
"Outside?" I echoed. He nodded, "but Georgie, it's -"  
"I know it's cold. I know we're supposed to be expecting snow, but it's _our_ song and I would love to bring in the new year with you in my arms."  
He held out his hand. Without hesitation, I took it. I handed Linda my flute of champagne and she giggled, waving goodbye as George dragged me out into the garden.

Sure enough, our song was playing. The children were all sitting outside wearing their parents' coats and hats and scarves, and they all looked adorable. I saw my four, and Paul and Linda's three. Roger Daltrey had brought his three oldest children, leaving his newborn daughter at home with a governess, and Mick Jagger had only brought his daughter, Karis, who was five. Maureen had not let Ringo bring Zak and Jason and Lee to the party. There were other children but I didn't know exactly who they had come with.

George took me into his arms and quietly told me to rest my head on his shoulder. I did just that and he kissed the back of my neck.

Shivers ran down my spine and he chuckled as he felt my body move against his.

"I knew that would get you going." He teased quietly.

We began to sway to the music, no rhythm between us. Neither of us were dancers.

"You always get me going, Georgie." I told him honestly, a slightly seductive edge to my tone.

"You're a minx," he said, "be careful what you say next, or we might not make it until the end of the song -"  
" _You_ might not, you mean." I teased, "misfire, Georgie?" I giggled.

"You little -" he cut himself off, pulling away from me, "get upstairs _now_." I giggled again and turned and ran off, George slapped my arse as I went. I shrieked in delight and disappeared inside, ignoring the children asking me why I had made such an odd sound.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	88. Chapter Eighty-Seven

I ran up the stairs to our room, unbuttoning my trousers on the way. By the time I had closed the bedroom door behind me, my shirt was already on the floor and my trousers were around my ankles. I kicked them off before I went over to the bed. I bent over the footboard, having to push myself onto my tiptoes to reach it properly. My arse was facing the door, and I knew George would love the sight which awaited him when he finally joined me.

It felt like hours passed before I finally heard the latch of the door click open and a pair of footsteps come into the room. The door closed and I clenched my thighs together, the anticipation almost killing me.

"You took long enough," I purred as I turned my head to look over my shoulder. George chuckled lowly and began to take himself out of his trousers, pushing the material down to his knees and shuffling closer to me.

"And look at the sight that greeted me." His hands went to my arse, one on either cheek, massaging my cheeks through the lacy red material. "Aren't I lucky?"

"Aren't I?" I responded, moaning a little as George took another step forward and began to run his bare cock up and down the divide between my two cheeks. He let out a delicious shiver as the lace massaged his erection. "You take such good care of me, Georgie."  
"Always, luv," George promised, his fingers slipping into my panties and gently pulling them down my legs. "You're my girl."

When I was naked in front of him, George took his hands from me reluctantly. He spat into the palm of his hand and slicked his cock with the saliva, doing this again and again until I could feel the air behind me move as he thrust into his fist.

"Come on, Georgie..." I teased him, wiggling my arse, "I'm _so_ desperate for you..."

George moaned and put tip of his cock to my weeping pussy, rubbing the head up and down and coating it in my juices. I whimpered, thrusting my hips against him, begging him to take me.

"Be _patient_!" George exclaimed, pulling away from me entirely. He walked away from me and I turned, whirling around and watching him go over to our chest of drawers, rifling through the one which contained our underwear.

"Georgie, please..." I rubbed my thighs together, my eyes brimming with tears at the thought of how much I needed to get off and the possibility of him denying me my release.

He found what he wanted, turning around and holding it up for me to see.

His tie. His black tie that he wore to funerals and important business meetings.

He took his time walking back towards me, his manhood tapping against his belly like a pendulum. I watched it, transfixed. My eyes wide and jaw on the floor. When George reached me, he wagged a finger, gesturing for me to turn around. I did as I was told, bending over the footboard once again.

"Hands, luv." George ordered darkly, an authoritative edge to his sexy voice.

I hummed in reply and put my hands behind me, right in front of him. George took both of my wrists in one of his hands and then bound them tightly using his black tie. The silk was so soft against my skin that I let out a mewl of delight.

"Such a good girl," he cooed at me, tightening the knot. "Now," he grabbed my arse with both hands and pushed my entire body upwards. I was now at a much more uncomfortable angle, but I knew that when he finally took me, it would be so deep. "Hold yourself. I don't want to hear anything."  
"But -"  
"Bite the duvet, I don't care." He paused, "no sound. Do you understand me?"  
"Yes -"  
" _No sound_." George repeated. "Do you understand me?"

I nodded in reply.

"Good." George stroked his cock once more, bringing it to full attention. He pushed it up against my gaping hole, already so ready for him, and then he asked me, "you ready, baby?"

I nodded again, remembering to not reply with any sort of sound. George hummed in approval and then pushed in.

He opened me up wide and I bit down onto the duvet beneath my face. I could feel the wood of the footboard biting into my stomach. The pain was almost too much, but as George slipped deeper inside of me and his cock began to pulse prematurely, I groaned. It felt divine.

" _What_ was that?" George asked, one of his hands leaving my backside and coming to hold the knot which connected my two wrists. "Did you say something?" I was silent, my heart beating erratically from my rib cage as he stayed still inside of me. He pulled my wrists back and my back bent at an unusual angle. I squealed and squirmed, turning my head over my shoulder to look at him and beg for mercy. He pulled me tighter and then rested his chin on my shoulder. "I'm going to make you fucking _scream_."

I was just about to make a comment about him telling me to be quiet, but my words - and breath - were stolen from me as George began to slam his hips into me, grunting and groaning as his thick cock slid in and out of me again and again, driving me crazy as he hit the deepest spot within me repeatedly.

"You going to cum?" George hissed in my ear as he pulled the tie tighter to his stomach, my back arched backwards even more. My toes curled.

I nodded, whimpering as he continued to thrust into me harshly. My walls clenched around his length. George tipped his head back and cried out in ecstasy as he fucked upwards, squirting his seed into my womb. I saw stars crossing in front of me as I exploded around him, my hot cunt milking his length until the both of us were spent.

We stayed like that for minutes, returning to reality only when we heard somebody pounding on the bedroom door.

"Mummy!" I sighed.

"Yeah, Nance?!" I called back, shoving my wrists against George's stomach so he would untie me. He did and I quickly set myself upright, going over to the wardrobe and pulling out a clean dress because my trousers would be wrinkled by now because they'd been on the floor for so long.

I put it on, ignoring what Nancy was saying. George only needed to tuck himself back into his trousers, so he was ready first. He opened the door, "what is it, Nancy?" He asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

I scowled to myself. I didn't like him talking to her that way, but I knew that there was nothing that Georgie disliked more than having a lovemaking session being interrupted.

"Dhani found Mick in his room and started screaming about it so Aunt Linda had to pull him away but then he -"  
"Dhani!" George was out of the bedroom and in Dhani's room within seconds. I was dressed, luckily, and now sitting at the vanity mirror in my room. I looked in the mirror and saw Nancy watching me.

"Come here, Nance," I waved her in, still watching her with the mirror. She took a few steps into the room, her hands joined in front of her. "What's wrong, darling?" I asked her, "come in, I won't bite." Nancy came further into the room. She closed the door behind her slowly and then turned back to me. "What do you think of my dress?" I asked her, gesturing to the blue satin material.

She hesitated for several seconds and then smiled, "it's pretty, mum."  
"Thank you..." she wasn't acting like herself. "What's wrong?" I turned on the stool, patting my knee. "Come sit."

Nancy hesitated again, but came to perch on my knee after about thirty seconds. I put my arms around her.

"Is everything okay, Nance?" I asked her.

She nodded slowly, humming in reply.

"You're lying to me," I told her, "I don't like it when you lie. What's wrong?" I was being as gentle as I could be with her, but I hated it when any of my children tried to hide things from me - especially Nancy, because she was usually so transparent.

She sighed, "it's another year without them, isn't it?"  
"Without who?" I asked in a puzzled tone.

" _The Beatles_." Nancy replied. "Mummy, I miss it all."  
"Miss what?" I asked her.

"I miss the studio, and the music. I miss seeing Uncle John, Uncle Paul and Uncle Ritchie every time we go. I miss -"  
" _Nance_ ," I said, "you were only little when the band ended." I paused, "I don't even think that you remember half the stuff that you just described. It's just memories you've made in your mind."  
"But -"  
I kissed her cheek, "come on, y'know the band is over, and everyone's better off for it -"

"But mum -"  
I tapped her shoulder so she would stand up. I then stood up after her, going over to my shoe closet and putting on a pair of navy blue stilettos.

"Come on, darling," I said, turning back to her and looking at myself in the mirror over her shoulder, "the party's missing us."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	89. Chapter Eighty-Eight

**_25th February 1976_ **

"Right," I whispered, "I want you to carry this, Dhan," I handed him George's coffee, "Julian, can you take the plate and cutlery?" Julian nodded and took the plate from the side, the cutlery already resting on the side of it, "Nancy, take the presents." She nodded and picked up all of our presents for George, "and Jack, you're in charge of the newspaper."  
It was George's thirty-third birthday. He was still asleep, but I had woken the children up an hour early so they could spend some time with him before they went to school. "You go first." I gestured for them to take the staircase first. I followed behind them, holding my own present for my husband.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, feeling a little queasy, the children were already in the room. George had the day's newspaper in one hand, Jack nestling under the same arm to be as close to his father as possible.

I smiled at the sight, leaning against the door frame to regain a settled feeling in my stomach and also to appreciate the scene in front of me.

When George looked away from the four little miracles that we had raised together, his eyes instantly went to me. He smiled, his eyes lighting up so much that I noticed it from across the room.

"I thought you'd deserted us," he teased.

"That's tomorrow's plan," I replied, coming further into the room slowly, my nausea still remaining despite my efforts to will it away. It had never been this bad with the others. "I wouldn't leave you on your birthday."  
He breathed out in relief, wiping his forehead free of nonexistent sweat dramatically. "Well _that_ 's good to hear."  
I giggled and gestured for Julian to give George his breakfast, which was going cold. It was his favourite; porridge made with locally sourced milk and topped off with raspberries and honey.

"Happy birthday, Georgie." Nancy put the presents on the bed after I had finished my sentence.

"Open them, daddy!" She exclaimed, grabbing the present which was from her and practically throwing it at him in her excitement to see his reaction at what she had bought for him.

George chuckled, catching the present and admiring the wrapping, "it's very good, Nance. Did you do it yourself?"

She nodded proudly, "open it!" 

He did, gasping when he saw what she had bought for him. It was a new guitar strap which had been hand stitched by an indigenous Indian lady who we had met the previous summer when we had all travelled to India to help George get more inspiration for his next album.

Once there, Nancy had asked the woman to teach her the ancient art, but the woman had refused. Instead, she had made Nancy the guitar strap to give to George.

"Oh, Nance, I love it." George held it up to the light and smiled. I could have sworn that if he wasn't such a tough Liverpool lad then he would have been blubbering like a baby.

"Eat some of your breakfast, George, it'll go cold otherwise." George put the food on the bedside table.

"I can always heat it up again..." he turned back to the children, tapping the bed beside him, "climb on, everyone, we've got a bit of time before school today, haven't we?" He looked at me for an answer to his question.

I nodded and he grinned. They all climbed on and I watched, wishing that I had Linda's camera with me.

I wasn't sure why we didn't own one because it meant that we often missed out on snapping those all important family memories.

The stench of the porridge was filling the room.

"Are you a'right, luv?" George asked, tearing his attention away from Jack, who was now sitting in his lap, "you look a bit pale."  
I shook my head slowly, swallowing. "I'll, um, be a few minutes." I then dashed out of the room and into the bathroom down the hallway, not wanting any of them to hear me throwing up.

**George's POV**

I got out of bed, "I'd better go and see if your mother's okay." I told them, "why don't you all get ready for school?" The four of them groaned. I chuckled but insisted on it, "come on, you'll be home again before you know it."  
I watched the four of them leave the room before I did, grabbing the glass of water which was on my bedside table.

I tiptoed to the bathroom down the hallway, the sounds of Lo violently throwing up becoming louder as I got closer. My stomach churned; I hated thinking of her as ill or in pain.

I knocked on the door but she didn't hear me, so I just pushed it open and sat on the floor beside me, scooping up all of her gorgeous hair with one of my hands.

"George," she managed to say around another bout of vomit, "d-don't... I don't want y-you to see me l-like this -"  
"Shush," I said softly, putting the glass of water down beside me and then rubbing her back with my now-free hand, "don't worry about it. I've seen worst."

She didn't have the energy to protest, and instead went back to bringing her guts up. I cringed everytime she hurled, wishing that I could take her place.

After about twenty minutes more, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then sat back on her knees. She took several deep breaths. I took the glass from beside me and offered it out to her.

Wordlessly, Charlotte took it, drinking almost all of it before she gave it back to me and continued to breathe deeply.

"All done, now?" I asked, gesturing to the toilet.

Lo nodded, swallowing before she answered, "I suppose you want your present now?"  
"If you're ill, then -"  
"I'm not ill, George." My wife paused, "I'm pregnant." A grin spread across my face. I couldn't help myself.

"P-pregnant?" I stuttered, feeling my heart race and my smile grow even wider as she nodded.

"I went to the scan last week," Lo told me, "the doctor confirmed it. I have a picture somewhere, I think it's in my purse. I didn't want any of the kids to find it before I told you and I wanted to wait until today -"  
I cut her off with a kiss to the lips, ignoring the faintly unpleasant taste of sickness as the love of my life melted into my arms, still babbling.

"I wrapped up a little teddy bear for you because I wanted to tell you like that, but -"

"When's our baby coming, Lo?" I asked her, over the moon.

"The doctor said I was about six weeks or so, which means it'll come in September."

I held her close to me still, unable to believe that in a few months, we'd have another baby to take care of. I loved the kids as they were now, because it was like they had their own personalities - but there was something wonderful about holding your own little baby in your arms.

Charlotte looked at the watch which I always wore; a gift from her for my thirtieth birthday. She gasped and sat bolt upright, "they're going to be late!"  
"I'll drive them this morning," I said, standing up and then holding out a hand to help her up, "you make a cup of tea for us both and put your feet up, I'll be back in a bit."

She nodded and went to get dressed for the day whilst I hurdled our Harrison children into the car.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	90. Chapter Eighty-Nine

**Charlotte's POV**

George was back after only twenty minutes or so. I had my feet up, sipping on a cup of tea with a soap opera on - I wasn't sure what it was - I didn't usually watch them so didn't really follow specific shows.

"You a'right?" George asked by way of a greeting as he walked into the living room.

I looked away from the television and nodded, smiling. "Much better. Not even nauseous anymore."

He sat on the edge of the settee, in front of my legs. George put one of his hands over my leg and smiled at me, "I'd take it all away if I could."

I cocked my head lovingly at him. "I don't mind going through it, because it means we get this lovely little baby at the end."  
George beamed. "When you put it like that, I suppose it's okay."  
I giggled.

"Have you told Paul?"

I shook my head, "and I asked Linda not to. I thought it was something I should tell him in person."  
George nodded, "maybe..." he breathed out in contentment, flopping back against my legs exaggeratedly.

I giggled, bending my leg at the knee with great difficulty because of his weight on top of it.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed, "you -"  
"Come lay with me, Georgie." I moved aside a little and gestured to the space in front of me - not a lot, and definitely not enough for the two of us to fit comfortably... but I insisted, tapping the settee harder with the palm of my hand. " _Georgie_..."  
He chuckled and laid down, resting his head on my arm, which was stretched out in the small space.

"You and that pregnant belly are taking up all the room!" George cried teasingly, wiggling around to try and find a comfortable angle.

I laughed, kicking his legs, which he had entwined with my own. "Rude!" I laughed, "you're not supposed to mention the size of a woman's stomach!"  
"When I see a woman, I'll try to bear that in mind."

I laughed, kicking his leg again.

"Be very careful, George Harrison, I'm the one making your dinners!"

George guffawed, "I knew there was something wrong with them!"  
The two of us laughed, teasing each other for a few more minutes until our sides were aching.

As we regained our breath, our hands found each other and joined together.

"I love you, y'know?" George said, turning his head a bit so he could look into my crystal eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him. "I know you do, Georgie."

"We should do something before this baby comes." He sat upright, our hands still entwined. 

"Like what?" I asked him, excited about his proposal and genuinely curious as to what he was suggesting.

George thought for a few seconds before he said, "what about a honeymoon?"

"Honeymoon?" I echoed.

He nodded, "a holiday, just you and me... wherever you want. We got married and didn't have one because of Dhani and Julian, so now they're all a bit older and before the little one comes along, I want to take you somewhere that we can have the time of our lives -"  
"But who would watch the children?"

"Linda and Paul would, I'm sure." George replied, "or maybe Dhani and Jules could go over and see John for a week or so and then Paul and Linda would take Nancy and Jack?"

I bit my lip, "that sounds lovely, George," I said, "but I don't think I want to do that right now."  
His face fell. "B-but why?"

"Well, I'm pregnant, for one. The morning sickness wouldn't be nice, and I wouldn't be able to do as much as I'd want to."  
"But we can't ask Paul and Linda to look after a baby," he furrowed his thick eyebrows, "Lo, if we don't go now then -"  
"Time isn't running out for us, Georgie," I clasped his hand more tightly in my own, "we've got the rest of our lives to go on holiday and love each other. Why're you in such a rush?"  
George shook his head, looking down at our two hands, "I'm not in a rush, I just want to appreciate you -"  
"So let's do it _here_ ," I gestured to the house around us, "with our kids, and our family all together."

"About that," George paused as I narrowed my eyes at him, "well, I was thinking on the way back from the school that we should get a bigger house."

"A bigger one?" I echoed in surprise, "why? We have enough bedrooms -"  
"But the garden isn't big enough for a vegetable patch and the kids to play in," he paused, "I've been looking, and well, Eric told me about this estate - Friar Park - in Henley."

"That's miles away," I frowned.

"It's an hour's drive." George reassured me, "at most." He paused, "why don't we take the children to have a look around it?"  
My eyes skimmed the front room around us and I sighed. I _loved_ the house that we had at the moment, but I did have to admit that it was very small - too small for six people, let alone a new baby as well.

I nodded, "ring the estate agent then, let's see if they're free this weekend."  
George beamed, throwing his arms around me and kissing my lips passionately.

"Everything is going to be perfect, Lo," he assured me, "you'll see."

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	91. Chapter Ninety

George went to pick the children up. When they all arrived, Nancy first and the others following after her, they were clamouring for attention. Each of them was shouting loudly, trying to be heard above the other three.

"A'right, a'right!" George tried to get their attention, but none of them were listening. "Hey!" He still wasn't heard, but I could see him standing behind them. He was going bright red and wincing every time their voices got louder, which was happening more and more quickly.

"Okay, okay," I said, gesturing for them to quieten down a little bit. They did, though they were still all talking over one another. "Right," I paused for dramatic effect, a grin spreading across my face, "you _all_ want to talk?"

The four of them nodded in unison.

"And who's going first?" At that, they all began to clamour to be heard again. I laughed, "Nance?"

"Mummy, I..." Nancy continued to talk, but I tuned her out - I cared about what she had to say, of course, but at that moment, all I could think about was the little baby inside of me.

I hoped that I was having a girl. I loved my boys of course, and I would love the new baby no differently it was born a boy, but I wanted Nancy to have a sister. Even if there was going to be about eleven years between them, I knew that Nancy would love a little sister - and I missed having a little girl. Nancy was growing up so fast, now - all four of them were.

"Isn't that exciting?" Nancy squealed, practically jumping up and down.

I nodded, smiling. "It is," I agreed, "gosh, you're a lucky girl."

She nodded and turned, ready to skip off, but I caught her arm. "Stay for a while," I told her, "daddy and me have some news, but we want to wait until we've heard all of yours, first." I looked to Julian, "you next, dear."  
Julian shared his day with us, and then Jack and Dhani. None of them left the room, and they all took a seat on the plush rug. George was sitting on the edge of the settee beside my legs like he had been earlier.

When they had all finished chattering away, I looked to George and nodded at him. The four of them followed my movements and their eyes landed on their dad, "we're going to look at a new house this weekend." He had spoken to the estate agent earlier, who had confirmed that he would be free for a viewing at Friar Park this weekend. "It's not too far from here - Henley-On-Thames, about an hour away - and if we all like it, then it means we will be able to move very soon. Your rooms might be bigger, and the garden definitely will be. We'll have more space overall, really."  
"You'll even get to start at a new school!" I enthused. Dhani frowned. I knew what was wrong with him. "An hour isn't far away, Dhani," I told him quietly, "and you can still write and call her."

"I don't have any other friends," Dhani frowned, "I _need_ Mandy."

"You'll make lots of new friends, Dhan." George said, in an effort to reassure his son.

"I don't _want_ new friends."

"Dhani," Nancy said softly, "I heard that Henley-On-Thames has a really big library -"  
"And this new house has over _one hundred_ rooms, Dhan," George added with a supportive, encouraging smile, "we could make our own library."

Dhani perked up a little at that, but I could tell that he would sulk for days, if not _weeks_ , about having to leave his school.

So I said the only thing I could think of, "it probably won't even happen, Dhan. It's not often that a big change like moving house happens."

" _But_ ," George said, "there's going to be another change..." He beamed at me.

"In September," I said, causing all of the children to turn their attention back to me, "you're going to have another brother or sister. I'm having a baby!"  
Dhani's eyes widened. Nancy was grinning like a Cheshire cat, Jack looked confused and Julian looked resigned.

" _Another_ baby?" Julian asked, sighing.

I chuckled, "yes, Jules. Another one."  
He groaned, got up and left the room. It wasn't the best reaction, but I knew that he would come around and be excited soon.

Nancy asked, "can you make it a girl, mummy?"  
I smiled, "that's not how it works, darling," I paused, "you get what you're given."

"I hope it's a sister."

I nodded, "I know you do, Nancy. I know." She got up and left the room, a smile on her face.

I turned to Jack, who looked confused. "So where does the baby come from?" He asked.

I opened my mouth to reply, but George cut me off. "That's a question for me, lad," he paused, "and I'm not going to tell you that, yet. Come back to me in about five years and I'll tell you."

George had had to give Julian 'the talk' just a few months previously, and Dhani was next in line. George wasn't looking forward to it, because Julian had asked far too many questions and wanted to know absolutely _everything_ , and George feared that Dhani would be even worse than his big brother because of how he was with facts; he had to know everything about everything.

"Head off, now," George cocked his head to the door. Jack nodded, stood up and left the room.

We turned to Dhani, "how do you feel about this, Dhan?"

"I have a new baby brother already," he paused, "but Sean lives far away."  
George and I exchanged glances with each other before we both turned back to Dhani, "yes well, this one's going to live with us, obviously. Wouldn't you like a new baby to look after?"  
He had been so good with Jack - the two of them were very close.

Dhani wrinkled his nose, "I hope that the new baby is a girl," he paused, "I like looking after Nancy, and I have two little brothers, now. I don't need another one."

I replied, "well maybe you and Nance can start thinking of names for the new baby, then?" I paused, knowing that my suggestion would keep the two of them busy for months, "and if we like it, then maybe daddy and me will call the new baby it."

Dhani beamed, got up and skipped out of the room.

I turned to George, a smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked in a sceptical tone of voice, crossing my arms against my chest.

He replied, "nothing." He wasn't convincing.

"It must be something -"  
"You're just good at this whole parenting thing," he paused, "it's quite sexy, actually -"  
"Well," I giggled, turning bright red, "I've had a lot of practise."

He nodded, "that's true."  
"And I've still many, many more years." I reminded him, "eighteen, at least." I put a hand on my stomach, "and then we might have more children after this one, so maybe even longer." George leaned forward, using one of his hands to support his weight, and pecked my lips. "Hmm," I hummed quietly, "what was that for?"

"I love it when you talk about having more children," he paused, "because that means that we get to have fun trying."

I laughed, slapping him away playfully. "You're a swine, George Harrison!"

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


	92. Epilogue

**_9th December 1980_ **

George smirked at me over the top of his teacup, wiggling his thick eyebrows suggestively. I giggled, "you're insane." I paused, "I'm not doing it again. Remember when we tried that back in '69?"

Julian groaned, "you two are _disgusting_ ," he paused, "do you have to talk about sex at the breakfast table?"

"Would you prefer the dinner table, darling?" I asked rhetorically, smirking at his exaggerated groan. He knew that George and I were just joking around, because we always had.

"Dhan," Julian nudged Dhani, who was sitting beside him, his head buried in the latest _Smash Hits_ magazine, which had been delivered the day before. Dhani hummed in reply, but very obviously wasn't listening. "Dhan?"  
"He's not listening to you, Jules." Nancy sighed from the other end of the table, using a handheld mirror to check that her eyeshadow hadn't smudged since she'd come downstairs.

"It's very rare that anybody does."  
"Don't be rude, Jack." I chided. Jack looked away from his guitar which was resting in his lap. He wanted to be a musician, much like George. Julian also had this dream, though didn't usually have a guitar attached to his side as Jack did.

"I didn't mean it, y'know, mum." Jack replied, "jus' a bit of fun." Jack spoke more like a Scouser than all of my children, and I had never quite managed to work out why. He idolised George, of course - they all did - so I had always assumed that he just copied his hero's accent.

"Mummy! I dropped my tea!" I sighed, looking at Sophie, my youngest child. She was just four years old, and was likely to be mine and George's last child

"Oh, Soph," I said as I clicked my teeth in dismay, getting up and going to the kitchen sink in the other room to fetch a cloth to wash the tea from her, "I wish you'd be more careful. The rest of you need to finish your breakfast because I'm leaving for school in twenty minutes, and if you're not ready to go then you'll have to walk." I looked over at George, who looked mildly impressed. It was very rare that either of us had to parent the five children; they were no problem, and usually Julian - who was seventeen - or Dhani, who was sixteen - would tell the younger two; eleven year old Jack, and four year old Sophie off before George or I could get to them.

Somebody rang the front door bell, and it echoed throughout the house and into the dining room. Julian stood up, "I'll get it."  
I replied, "no you won't. Sit down and finish your breakfast. _Now_ , Jules." He did as he had been told and then I went to get the door. When I opened one of the double doors, I saw Paul standing there.

He looked a wreck.

My eyes widened and I gulped, my mind instantly going to the worst thing that I could think of. "Is it -?"  
Paul shook his head, swallowing and taking several seconds before he spoke, "Lo, I need to come in." I nodded and rushed him into the small reception room just off the main hallway. I closed the door behind me and sat Paul down, wishing that I could offer him a cup of tea to steady his nerves before he told me what was wrong. He took several deep breaths and then said, "Lo... i-it's John..."  
" _John_?" I asked in disbelief and fright, falling onto the settee beside him. Paul put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him until I rested my head on his shoulder. "Yoko phoned - h-he's been shot..."  
"SHOT!?" I exclaimed, rising hurriedly from my seat and pacing back and forth across the floor as Paul explained.

"S-someone was waiting outside of the D-Dakota building... John was s-shot, and d-died on the w-way to the -"

I broke into tears, going over to the bookshelves which lined one wall of the room and resting my arm on them, burying my head into my sleeve as I sobbed. I hadn't loved John in nearly fifteen years, but I still cared very deeply for him despite how unkind he had been since he had gotten with Yoko. I remembered how he had called me when his son, Sean, had been born, and how he had apologised for being absent from Julian and Dhani's lives. I remembered how he had been when George and I had taken all of the children over to New York to meet baby Sean before I had been pregnant with Sophie. And then I remembered John as I had known him best - as children; teenagers, really - in Liverpool. I remembered him at the Cavern, and at Mendips. I remembered him laughing and smiling, looking after me after I had found Kevin, my stepfather, dead in our front room.

"Lo..." Paul came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder, "Yoko's asked if Jules and Dhani would fly over to be with Sean and her for the funeral..."  
I sniffled, turning my head over my shoulder to look at him, "she doesn't want anybody else there?"  
"I think she wants it to be private."  
"But Paul," I replied, wiping my nose and standing upright, realising how hurt he must be about John's death, too. "John was your best friend... you should be there, too."

"I know," he bit his lip, "we should all be there, but she won't allow it... and if we all turn up, she might send us all packing - Dhan and Jules included - and they need to be there more than me, you and George do right now."

I nodded, agreeing entirely with him... and then my heart seized up. I hiccuped as I dried my eyes and said, "I need to tell the boys... and George -"  
"I'll tell George." Paul said, "you tell Dhani and Julian first." I nodded and Paul and I took a few more minutes before we left the room and headed into the dining room.

As soon as we entered, I saw that everybody had done as I had asked. They were all ready to go to school - other than George, of course, who had his coat on and his green wellies as he wanted to get some gardening done before the really cold weather set in.

But as soon as they saw my face - and Paul's - they knew that something was wrong.

Nancy was the first to me, "mum?" She asked carefully, "is everything okay? What's happened?"  
"Dhan," I swallowed, "Julian," I ignored Nancy, knowing that if I spoke to anybody other than my oldest two then I would cry, "I need to tell you something. Come on..." I turned and walked out of the room, knowing that they would follow me. I heard Paul asking George if they could go somewhere private.

I went into the reception room that I had been in with Paul and the boys followed, Julian closed the door as he was the last in. I took one last look at their young, carefree faces. They both looked as though nothing in the world fazed them, though I knew that that was about to change.

"Boys..." I swallowed as I gestured to the chair, "your father's had an accident..." they knew that George wasn't their biological father, but they both still called him 'dad'. "Well actually," I hiccuped, feeling the tears falling down my face, "it's a little worse than that... h-he died on the w-way to the h-hospital."  
Both boys were silent, though Julian looked more shaken than Dhani, who was just staring off into the distance. It took several seconds before either of them spoke.

"W-when?"  
"Yesterday. T-time zones a-and everything..." I replied, "boys, I'm so sorry, I -"  
"Is Sean okay?" Dhani asked in a nonchalant voice, turning his attention back to me.

"I don't know," I hesitated, "Yoko c-called Paul, and he came right o-over... she's asked you to f-fly over."

"Now?" Julian asked in disbelief.

I nodded, "as soon as you can, I think." There was a crushed feeling inside of my heart. I could hardly breathe, it felt like it was weighing me down. I couldn't imagine how Julian and Dhani were feeling.

"We'll go." Julian stood up, turning back around to look at Dhani, who was still sitting on the settee, once again staring into space, "right, Dhan?"

Dhani was silent. I looked at Julian and said softly, "go and pack, Julian, your dad will drive you to the airport in a little while." Julian nodded and left without another word. I sat down beside Dhani and just took him into my arms... and for the first time in his life, Dhani buried his head in my chest and just sobbed. It broke my heart, and made me cry, too. We cried together, mourning the same man but two different people. I mourned my best friend, the teenager with big dreams from Liverpool - and Dhani mourned the man that John should have been.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬


End file.
